


Battle of the Bands

by CrowKing



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst, Battle of the Bands, F/M, Fluff, Modern AU, Multiple Endings, Rock Band, i guess?, somewhat college au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-16
Updated: 2019-02-13
Packaged: 2019-05-24 05:08:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 24,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14948154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrowKing/pseuds/CrowKing
Summary: You just moved into the city for the first tie all by yourself. After you get your dream summer job working for a small magazine, you find yourself in the middle of the city's rock festival: Battle of the Bands. Local rock bands throughout the city compete to win a record deal that could change their lives. Your job? Get close to them and write about them online.A single girl in the city surrounded by rocker boys during the summertime. What could possibly go wrong?





	1. First Chapters Shouldn’t Have Long Titles by Fall Out Boy

Your alarm on your phone rang with a familiar beat. You reached for it and groaned. You always hated mornings ever since you were small. Your parents adored how much you loved to sleep as a child, and in kindergarten your teacher had nicknamed you ‘Sleeping Beauty’ due to how much you loved naptime. Much to your dismay, you were no longer a child. You were an adult, waking up in your new, unpacked, first apartment. 

Cardboard boxes filled your space while you navigated your way to the kitchen. A pot of coffee brewed while your eyes blinked awake. Your phone buzzed with a notification from a friend. 

[Margie] : Good luck with your interview today!! Meet me for lunch after?

Margaery and you met under weird circumstances. You had an online boyfriend named Ben for quite some time until one day Margaery messaged you out of the blue asking if you knew Ben. When you answered, Margaery showed you txt messages and pictures of her and Ben together. She explained that she had suspected that Ben was cheating on her wanted to find out herself.

Feeling terrible and angry, you decided to take the high road. You broke thing off with Ben, and let your friendship with Margaery blossom. When your real-life friends let you down, Margaery was always online to cheer you up. Margaery loved sharing anything and everything about her city life with you, and you secretly promised yourself to move in with her so you two could finally have adventures together.

[You] : Thanks for the reminder! Dealer’s choice for lunch, doesn’t matter to me.

After a hot cup of coffee, a warm shower, and another text from Margie that only read ‘Kick Ass!’, you were ready for your job interview. It wasn’t anything major, just a summer job that you’d hope you would gain experience from. 

You stepped inside the heavily air-conditioned record store to find a few customers browsing around. Vintage and rand new records were for sale while other related items were displayed throughout the store. A bored-looking teenage boy played on his gameboy while sitting at the cashier counter.

“Hello, sorry to bother you, but I’m here for an—

“Interview?” the dark-haired teenager responded without looking up from his game. “You’re y/n aren’t you?” You blinked confusedly.

“Yes, yes I am. How did you know that?” you asked. “Who are you?” You watched the teenager sigh and knock on a door behind him. He returned to his seat while the door opened to reveal a handsome young man with curls. His incredibly blue eyes met yours and he smiled. You wanted to stare at his eyes forever, but you needed to get through this job interview first.

“Hello, I’m so sorry. I wasn’t expecting you for another ten minutes,” he said. His hand reached out to yours. “I’m Robb Stark.”

You took his hand and shook it professionally. You would be damned if you screwed up this opportunity. 

“I wanted to be here early. I’m Y/N L/N. It’s nice to match a face with a name.”

“Likewise,” Robb answered. He gestured you to go inside his office. “After you.” You can only get some impressions based on emails. You assumed Robb was a casual person who around the same age as you, but you didn’t expect him to be incredibly handsome. You also didn’t expect him to have a messy office. 

Papers and records were everywhere. Post-it notes decorated the edges of his computer screen. A calendar filled with events hung on the wall. Robb’s desk looked like something right out of Staples, and his mismatched chairs oddly gave you comfort. 

You sat in one of the office chairs while Robb sat behind his desk. He moved a pile of papers behind him and chuckled.

“I must apologize, my little brother comes off as strange,” he said. “A lot of people think Bran is psychic.”

“Is he?” you asked, glancing back. Robb shook his head.

“Some days I’m not even sure,” he answered. “Well, welcome! So tell me about yourself.”

“Oh sure,” you started. Straightening your back and keeping eye contact with Robb, you spoke. “I have always liked writing. A lot of my high school teachers really admired my work. I’ve written poems and short stories. My parents had to fight me to get me away from my computer.”

“Sounds like you’re really dedicated to your work,” Robb commented.

“I am. I try to be. I work hard on everything I care about,” you nodded.

“I can see that,” Robb glanced at his screen and then back to you. His smile was as constant as his positive vibe. “Your resume is impressive, but I see you didn’t go to college. Any reason why?”

“I believe I will get the education I need from experience, not a classroom. Books and great writers are my teachers. Life is my best friend. Or something poetic like that,’ you chuckled. Robb chuckled with you. 

“Did you recently move here? To the city?” 

“I did! I just got here yesterday,” you bit your lip.

“Oh wow! Really? Well, welcome,” Robb nodded. “How do you feel about deadlines?”

“I need them. I need them so badly,” you confessed. “If I didn’t have deadlines, my life would be a mess. I have to write everything down because I forget if I don’t.” Robb gestured to his calendar.

“Don’t worry. I’m the same. Well, after speaking with you through email and here in person, I think you’d be a good fit,” Robb smiled at you again. You smiled back. God, his happiness was contagious.

“Really? That’s it? I got the job?” you said, almost in disbelief.

“You do. Congrats, Y/N,” Robb reached out and shook your hand again. “I look forward to working with you.”

“Thank you so much! When can I start?” you asked eagerly. 

“How about the day after tomorrow? Seeing as you just got here, you should have a day to yourself to unpack.”

“That’s really nice of you. Thank you. That sounds good,” you smiled and went on your way. You stepped outside in the hot summer sun, and let yourself celebrate by dancing a bit in the street. You were finally a writer something you really worked hard for in the past couple of years.

You dialed Margie on the phone and walked towards downtown. “Hey, guess what? I got the job!”

Both of you celebrated with tacos and beer at Margie’s favorite spot. Her eyes flashed to her brother, managing the bar while she squealed with you.

“I’m so proud of you! You’re finally a writer. Tell me about it,” she leaned forward.

“Well, remember when you told me about the music scene out here? This guy, Robb, owns a records store. He wanted to start a publication that focuses on local artists. It’s a small magazine, but I’m going to writing about music.”

“Look at you, making it out here and shit!” Margie toasted with you and chugged her beer. She knocked on the bar. “Give us another, yeah?”

“Drinking already?” Loras smiled. 

“Y/N is on her way to the top,” she grabbed a new bottle from her brother. “So yeah, a good reason to drink, I think.”

“Congrats! You’re writing somewhere? With who?”

“The Scene. It’s a small magazine.”

“Oh I know who that is,” Loras opened another beer for you. He slid it into your hand. “I know some people who write with them. That’s a fun crowd of people. You’ll love them.” 

“Like Renly?” Margaery smiled. She took another sip while Loras glared at her. 

“Renly?” you asked. “You have a boyfriend?”

“No, I don’t,” Loras answered. “Renly’s just some guy, ok?” Margie snorted and then hummed. Loras gave her another warning glare before he left to serve a customer. She turned to you ad beckoned for you to come closer.

“He’s this cute rocker guy who’s a regular here. Every time he comes through, Loras swoons like a schoolgirl. He has such a crush on him.” You almost snorted in response. As you took a good look around the place, you noticed more than three good looking people around the bar area. 

“There’s a lot of cute people here, isn’t there?” you took a good bite out of your taco.

“Yes, yes there is,” a playful smile graced her mouth. “I told you that you’re gonna meet some cute guys here, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, you weren’t kidding. Even my new boss is mind-blowingly good looking.” 

Margie leaned forward in her seat again. “Really?”

“Yeah, he’s got these stupid blue eyes and amazing smile. Like what the fuck? He looks like an Instagram model.”

Margie hummed and smiled. “Well then, maybe I need to meet this guy, yeah?” she wiggled her eyebrows and you rolled your eyes. Margaery liked to get herself into trouble, but she somehow always got herself out of it. The Tyrell siblings were always getting into something odd. The only difference now is that you were physically here with them.

When you made it back to your studio apartment, you sighed and looked at all the boxes again. Some were labelled ‘kitchen’, others were labelled ‘bedroom’. It was overwhelming, but it was exciting. A new city. A fresh start. A decent job. Maybe you would get into your own trouble for the summer. 

You arrived at the record store with a cup of coffee in your hand. You smoothed out a slight wrinkle in your dress. It wasn’t your favorite color, but it looked too cute to pass up. You slightly hoped Robb would notice. When you walked inside the tore again, you watched Bran play his video game.

“Good morning, Bran,” you smiled. Bran only nodded and said a few words.

“They’re on the second floor. There’s a staircase behind the rap section.” After following Bran’s instructions, you were greeted with an old wooden floor. You could hear your new coworkers inside laughing away and printers printing papers out. 

The office space was larger than you thought. Desks joined together in groups. Some coworkers were typing away at their articles. Others stood around and listened to a jazz-like beat. Fans whirred circulating the air in the warm space. 

“Y/N! Over here!” you saw Robb’s infectious smile and went over to him. His faded t-shirt was cut low so you could peek at his chest. “You made it! Welcome to your new home.”

“Thanks.” Robb gestured you to move towards the breakroom area. 

“Here we have some coffee, our communal fridge, and some snacks,” Robb then pointed to the rest of the office. “And here’s everything else.”

“Seems simple enough,” you nodded.

“I like to make things simple. Being efficient is how I do my best work. Speaking of work, how would you like your first assignment?” You nodded excitedly. It felt nerve-racking, but as you made your way to your new desk you couldn’t help but feel you heartbeat faster. It could be first day jitters or it could be Robb standing close to you. 

He leaned over and turned your monitor on for you, and you caught another peek at the band of his underwear. You bit your lip subconsciously and tried to take your eyes off of him. He grabbed seat and pulled it up next to you.

“So, I read through your portfolio, and I really liked what I saw. You really know how to interview people. The way you describe people, you make them see so interesting when they’re not. You bring out their best qualities or you show their worst. That’s why I want to give you the biggest event of the summer: The Battle of the Bands.”

“The Battle of the Bands?” 

“Every year, local bands and musicians compete with each other to see who rocks it out of the house the most. Of course there’s scouts all around gathering new talent, and there’s food and local art, but it’s the music that’s important. I want you to cover it.”

“All of it?” you said, almost shocked at the heavy load of writing. Robb shook his head.

“No, not all of it,” Robb continued. “Jeyne is covering food. My sister is in charge of social media and art. I want you to focus on music. You’ll have full access to backstage and anywhere you need to go. I want you to get to know whose playing. Interview them. Spend time with them. See what you can dig up. What you think of their music.”

“That’s a lot.”

“That’s why it’s all summer long. Every week, I want to see a new piece from you. You’ll be online only for now. Seems good?” 

“Yeah, I think I can handle that,” you nodded. “You trust me with something this important?”

“Well, usually Renly covers the music, but his band is playing in it this year,” Robb nodded towards a tattooed hipster who laughed along with a joke with two coworkers. “His band would get unfair coverage, and I want to see a new perspective in the ring. Besides, I have a good feeling about you.” Robb winked and walked away from your desk. You sighed and caught yourself. 

You wrote a small note on a Post-it note. ‘First memo to self: Don’t catch feelings for your boss.’

You thought that would be easier said than done. You looked Renly’s way and nodded. Margie was right. This city was filled with loads of attractive people, and you were about to get close with the hottest musicians this summer. You were going to be in their company and probably party with them. You wrote yourself another Post-it note.

‘Second memo to self: If you’re gonna be a hoe, be a good hoe.’


	2. Second Chapters Can Have Long Titles And That’s Okay by Panic! At The Disco

Waking up the next morning was less of a struggle when you saw a text from Robb just saying ‘good morning’ and that he was looking forward to the Battle of the Bands festival today. The weather woman on your tv went on about how warm it would be today, and she was also excited for the Battle of the Bands. 

For once the weather woman was right. You stuck your hand out a window letting it catch the sun’s warmth. It was going to be a lovely day. You slipped on shorts, a cut-up band t-shirt, and sneakers. It would suffice for spending all day at a music festival. 

You almost took your car keys when you remembered that you had a city bus pass. What better way to start your article than to see other people get excited for the event itself? You left your car keys at home, and headed straight for the bus stop. Families with kids in AC/DC t-shirts and girls with flower crowns made you smile. The bus was filled with people all going to the city festival. You turned to see a young boy adjusting his baseball cap. You looked towards his parents who were occupied with his little sister, but you caught the mother’s eye.

“Hi! Sorry to bother you,” you glanced back at her son. “I’m a writer for The Scene. I was wondering if I could ask your son some questions about Battle of the Bands?”

The mother smiled and nodded. “Of course! Dominic, she would like to ask you some questions.” The mother put her son in front of you. Dominic sat down in a bus seat, and you kneeled in front of him, balancing on your feet as the bus moved forward.

“Hi Dominic, are you excited for today?” you asked the child. He nodded, keeping his eyes on you. 

“Tell her who we’re going to see,” the mother nudged him. The little boy smiled and shied away from you.

“Ah, come on, you can tell me,” you said, smiling. Dominic looked down, still smiling. 

“Blackfyre,” he said, in an almost whisper. “I like them a lot.”

“His father is a fan of theirs. He played Blackfyre in front of Dominic so much that Dominic started to love them,” she told you. You wrote down quick notes for yourself. The mother went on. “I even caught him shredding the guitar to one of their songs.”

“Oh really? Do you wanna be a rockstar when you grow up?”

“Yeah!” Dominic shouted with excitement. His hands raised up in the air as if he was on a roller coaster. You stood up from your spot as the bus slowed down. 

“Thank you so much. I got what I need,” you nodded to the mother once more before you hopped off the bus. You put away your notebook and continued down the downtown street. First, Margie. Then Battle. This was going to be a busy first day.

Margaery finished off her second mimosa of the day and knocked on the bar. “Another!”

“I’ll cut you off if you don’t slow down!” Loras immediately called out to her. Margie rolled her eyes and put her focus back on you.

“Blackfyre huh?” she recalled. “That’s Viserys Targaryen’s band. He’s really good.”

“Yeah? Think he may win the battle?” you scooped up a breakfast taco filled with eggs and sausage.   
“He actually might,” Margie nodded seriously. “His band reminds a lot of the adults of their classic rock days, but he has a reach on their younger teens. He’s a good looking guy with a lot of talent.”

“I’ll keep an eye on him,” you said, taking another bite. “What the fuck is in these tacos? They’re like crack.”

“I know,” Margie said, eyes wide on her own breakfast. She looked towards her brother and then back to you. “Do you want to do me a favor?”

“What kind of favor?” you asked, knowing fully well this meant trouble for you. 

Margie shot a look towards her brother. “It’s about Renly.”

“What? You want me to spy on him? Like we used to do on the internet?” you chuckled. Margie almost spat out her drink. Remembering your long distance internet days brought back joyful memories of you searching and stalking Margie’s love interests. You dug so hard into one of their social media profile’s that you found their SAT score. Margie was so impressed that she almost hired you to do more private investigative work.

“Yes, but no,” Margie beckoned for you to come closer, obviously not wanting her brother to hear. “Loras really needs this. He’s been lonely and depressed. Maybe encourage Renly to hang with Loras sometime? I don’t know. I don’t want to push him into a relationship, but he needs something. Someone. Does that make sense?”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “I’ll see Renly today. Along with Robb.”

“The cute boss?” Margie gushed. “You’re gonna flirt with him, right?”

“What if he has a girlfriend?”

“What if he doesn’t?” Margie winked. “Flirt with him and then tell me about it.” It wouldn’t matter what you argued with Margaery, you wanted to flirt with him anyways. Once you stepped into the festival, you were grateful for your heat-friendly outfit. 

The festival had several booths up front. Some where you could play games to win small prizes, others were advertising their local businesses. You recognized a young man standing in line at a booth to the side. You squinted to see his slender form, sunglasses, and his hands in his pockets while talking to another person beside him.

“Renly? Renly Baratheon?” you called out. The young man turned around to see you. He smiled and beckoned for you to come over.

“Hi! I’ve seen you in the office. Heard you got my assignment, yeah?” Renly smiled. He extended his hand out for you to shake. You gladly took it.

“I did, yes.” You looked beside Renly and recognized his conversation partner. “Hi, Robb.”

“Hey! You made it. Welcome to Battle of the Bands,” Robb looked ahead of the line. “I was trying to get everyone’s press badges, but it seems they’re really short staffed this year.”

“That’s unfortunate,” you commented seeing the long line ahead of you. “Why do you think that is?”

Robb frowned and scratched the back of his neck. He shared one look with Renly and turned to you. “There was an incident last year. Someone on staff was harassed and it made news. People have been hesitant to join festival staff and press after that. I’m honestly lucky to have you here.”

Robb gave you a grateful smile and you returned it right back to him. 

“I’m glad you gave me this opportunity,” you returned the compliment. The line moved forward much more, but you continued the conversation. “So, I hear you’re playing in the Battle this year.”

“I am,” Renly started off. “Stag Knight is ready to go.”

“Stag Knight?”

“A play off my family’s tradition and name.” Renly wore a confident smile on his face. “It’s a nod to my ancestors who were excellent hunters, but I don’t believe in hurting animals myself.”

“You’re a vegetarian?” you smiled, thinking ahead two steps. Renly nodded, patting his sack.

“I’ve got loads of my snacks in here today. If you need any water, come stop by, we’ll have lots,” Renly said.

“Well, I know I’m new to the city, but there’s this great taco place that serves amazing vegetarian friendly tacos—

“Sunspot!” Renly cut you off. “I love that place!”

“I happen to know one of the bartenders there,” you added. “Loras is so much fun.”

“Loras?” Renly thought. “The cute guy with curls? He always seemed so shy to me.” You held in your excitement at his comment and continued.

“He’s really not. He’s so much fun. We should all hang out sometime!” There it was, your move. Renly nodded and turned to Robb.

“That sounds like fun! We should.” Bingo. Margie had always commended you on how you played your social chess. Sometimes, she would claim you were better than her. You weren’t sure of that, but you knew you were going to get credit for this somehow.

Once you got your press badge, Renly parted ways with you and Robb. He trotted off quickly to rehearse before going on stage later that day. Robb put his badge over his head and looked at the schedule.

“So, who do we go to first?”

“Well,” you pulled out your notes. “I interviewed a little boy on the bus who was excited to see Blackfyre.”

“Ah, Viserys,” Robb chuckled. “Arrogant cock.” You took a step back.

“A what?”

“He’s…not terribly nice,” Robb walked with you through the festival. You heard alternative rock from one side of you. A crowd of people held their phones up to record. “He’s had a taste of success already. He’s talented, but it’s gone to his head. Maybe it’s best to stay away from him for now.”

“Oh okay,” you looked down, feeling dejected. Robb patted your back.

“It’s not that I don’t want you to follow this lead or that I don’t trust you,” Robb smiled. “I just don’t want you to go interview him and come back in tears.”

“He’s that bad?” you responded.

Robb shrugged. “Some say he is, some say differently. I just want to be cautious. I don’t want to lose a good writer on the first day.” You smiled, feeling the warmth of the compliment. 

Robb pointed to a pub on the corner of the street, a bit away from the festival. Both of you crossed the street and entered inside the Irish-themed pub. Inside, there was no leprechauns or four-leaf clovers. Instead, there was old pictures of Ireland, showcasing ancestors and family trees. The Ireland flag hung proudly. You feel the cool air of the air conditioning, and you silently thanked Robb for saving you from the heat. 

People spoke silently while they drank their pints. Other listened intently to the musician on the small stage. A guitar played a slow beat beautifully. Your eyes wandered to the artist. He wore boots and jeans. His flannel shirt was open to reveal his white tank underneath. It fit him tight. A shadow of a beard looked good on his face. His curls were much darker than Robb’s. Then the idea clicked.

“This is my half-brother, Jon,” Robb whispered. “I thought he would be a great first interview for you. And vice versa.” You inched forward and found a seat near the stage. Jon’s voice was a low and slow harmony. You listened intently to the lyrics.

_“I’m a cowboy on a steel horse I ride  
I’m wanted, dead or alive.”_

“Bon Jovi,” you smiled, nodding along. “I’ve never heard him like this before.”

“Jon’s good for that,” Robb smiled proudly. “He has the talent I wish I had. He doesn’t do big audiences. He likes it small like this.” Jon kept singing. His voice belted out the last few lyrics. Once he finished, the crowd in the pub applauded loudly for him. A few stood up and gave him whoops of joy. Jon smiled and nodded ‘thank yous’ to where he could until his eyes fell to you. 

You watched his heart skip a beat, and you couldn’t hide your own blush rushing to your cheeks. Jon was adorable, and you hadn’t spoken a single word to him yet. You wanted to slap yourself in the face. If Robb was attractive, of course his brother would be just as attractive. Duh. Jon walked down from the stage and walked towards your table with Robb.

“Good job!” Robb embraced Jon. He patted him on the back and then turned to you. “This is Y/N. She’s taking over for Renly this year.” Jon sheepishly smiled at you. 

“It’s nice to meet you,” he nodded. 

“I’ll grab some drinks, yeah?” Robb offered. “Pints?” When both of you nodded, Robb took off to the bar while you and Jon sat down.

“So, are you going to interview me?” Jon said. He bit his lower lip. 

“Don’t worry, I won’t ask hard questions,” you wanted to reach out to his hand and touch him to reassure him. He seemed so scared of you. “Robb told me how talented you are, and I agree with him. Why aren’t you playing out there with the rest of the bands?”

“I don’t like big crowds.” Jon took another look outside. “And it’s hot out there.” You laughed once at his joke and quickly wrote it down. 

“You’re funny, but you sing really serious music.”

“I prefer classic rock,” Jon told you. “I write my own music and preform that sometimes, but I want to be taken seriously.”

“You write your own music?”

“I do,” Jon’s hand massaged the back of his neck. “I don’t perform it that much. I don’t think it’s that good.”

“I heard you up there. I think you’re great!” You smiled at him. Jon seemed to be a gentle soul. You watched his smile grow on his face. A pint was placed in front of you. Robb sat down between you both. 

“How’s it going?” Robb asked.

“You were right,” Jon spoke before you. “She’s really nice.” You sighed and looked at Robb.  
“You told him about me?” 

“I did,” Robb shrugged. “I told him that a pretty nice girl was going to interview him today and he agreed to it.” Jon shook his head.

“No, you said that a very pretty and a very nice girl was going to interview me,” Jon corrected. Your eyes immediately watched Robb for his reaction. His eyes narrowed at his brother, but then softened towards you.

“You think I’m pretty?” you smugly smiled. Robb cleared his throat.

“Just interview him and you,” Robb pointed at Jon. “Don’t be stupid.” Without as much as a goodbye, Robb left the pub, leaving you and Jon alone.

“He thinks I’m pretty?” you asked Jon. Both of you started to laugh. Jon stopped laughing first and looked at you.

“He was right though. You are pretty. And nice. You are very nice,” Jon almost stumbled over his words. You couldn’t help but smile at him. The interview continued. You asked Jon more questions about him, his music, and who he would like to see win.

“Renly and Stag Knight,” Jon answered.

“Not yourself?” you asked, keeping the back of the pen near your mouth. Jon shook his head.

“No, I think Renly and his friends deserve it more. I just like doing music. I don’t need to win anything.” You felt your heart swell. Jon was so selfless that you wanted him to do nothing but hand puppies to other people. Because of course that’s a career that selfless people should do. Hand puppies to people and make them happy. 

“Thank you, Jon.” You closed your notebook. “I got everything I need.”

“Good.” Jon watched you stand up from your spot and began speaking again. “Robb told me you’re new to town.”

“I am, yeah,” you nodded.

“Do you wanna stick around? Maybe have another pint? Couldn’t hurt to make more friends?” Jon’s fingers played with the pint glass in his hand. His smile was more genuine than any smile you’d ever seen. You glanced at your phone and sighed.

“I really wish I could, but I am on assignment. I need to write up this interview for the website,” you frowned at him. You wish you could spend more time with Jon. After interviewing him, you realized how much he loved music and only wanted to play it for people to listen, not to be popular. 

“It’s alright. I understand. Working for my brother can be hard sometimes,” Jon led you to the door. “Just let me know if he’s a hardass on you, ok?”

You nodded. Before you could officially say goodbye to him, Jon unlocked his parked car on the curb.

“You’re gonna give me a ride?” you asked. “You just met me.”

“I know,” Jon continued. “My mother, well, Cat’s not really my mom, but she taught me to be polite always. Now, you could walk back to your office, or you can jump in here, avoid the heat, and get to your office faster.” The choice was obvious. You jumped in Jon’s car and he drove you a mere ten minutes back to the headquarters. 

Once you sat at your desk and had your notes open, you realized you never left your number with Jon. He had been so kind to you and so genuine. You groaned loudly as your hands melted into your face. How could you be so stupid? 

You sighed once more and started typing the article for The Scene website. There was one thing you could do for Jon. You could make him known and give him the recognition he really deserved. Halfway through the article you wrote another memo for yourself.

Give your damn number to guys who call you pretty and mean it.


	3. What Do You Mean The Lead Singer Is Hot As Fuck?? I Don’t Make The Rules, Andy Beirsack Does

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song featured in this chapter. "American Trash" by Innerpartysystem [https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-GKfWaNOhWM]

The article you posted about Jon blew up. You side-eyed the pub and saw people flocking inside to see the unknown guitarist. Robb stood next to you, buzzing with excitement. 

“Thank you again,” he said, close to your ear. “He told me he gave you a ride back to the office last night?”

“He did. He’s a gentleman. Is he single?” you said, tongue in cheek. Robb chuckled.

“He is, and so am I.” Robb turned around and walked deeper inside the fest. You noted the alternative music coming from a stage with a decent crowd. They recorded the band on their phones and jumped to the beat.

“Looks like Renly’s doing good. Should I make their band my next piece?”

“You could, or you and I could meet Blackfyre?” he smiled, holding two backstage passes. Your smile went from ear to ear.

“You’re kidding. I thought you hated them?” You posed the question, but you weren’t sure of the answer. After what Jon said yesterday, you had thought for a moment that Robb was trying to impress you. Robb shrugged and led the way. After presenting the passes to a security guard, you came upon a row of trailers.

“I do, but after I read your interaction with the boy on the bus I changed my mind. They’re heroes to the little ones. They understand teenagers. And their music reminds older generations of classic rock. I say we give them a chance. Plus, the amount of readers we’ll get won’t hurt.”

“Or maybe you’re spoiling me,” you winked. Robb patted your back and smiled.

“Maybe I am,” he winked back. 

Both of you laughed in each other’s presence until you came upon him. He leaned against the trailer, the last of the smoke cloud disintegrated into the air. His boots were scuffed. His tight black pants had attached chains softly clinking against each other. His tattooed arms and chest made your temperature rise.

You weren’t in presence of a rock star. You were in the presence of a Rock God.

“Afternoon,” his low voice purred at you. “I’m assuming you’re the Scene?”

“I-Ay-I am. Yes.” You responded. Your mouth was dry, but boy you were thirsty. “I am a writer. For the Scene. I am the Scene. Yes.” You gestured finger guns at him and immediately regretted your actions. 

“Viserys,” he held his hand out to you and you took it. You noticed the smaller tattoos on his hand. One in particular stood out to you.

“K? With a heart?”

Viserys’s laugh made your heart fly. You didn’t let go of his hand, and he didn’t let go of yours. “It’s a joke. King of Hearts.”

“Oh? Well, I guess your queen has a similar one.”

“I don’t have a queen,” Viserys found your eyes. “Part of the joke. I’ll be lonely forever. We should go inside. Get away from the heat, yeah?” You nodded and followed Viserys inside the trailer. Robb was close behind and closed the door.

“I thought this was a private interview,” Viserys narrowed his eyes at Robb who stayed by the door.

“It is. Just us and you.”

“Are you going to ask questions?” Viserys offered you a seat in the booth, but then he stepped closer to Robb, creating a wall between you and Robb.

“No, I’m not the writer.” Robb’s face reacted to Viserys. You hadn’t seen Robb angry, but you thought you were about to. 

“Well, sorry if I’m wrong.” Viserys clicked his tongue. “Doesn’t ‘private interview’ mean the writer and the interviewee?” Robb glanced over at you.

“I think I’d rather stay,” his firm tone and watchful eyes made Viserys roll his own and turn around. He plopped down opposite of you and offered his cigarettes. You politely shook your head. He nodded and waited for your first question. 

“How did you get into music?” you asked. Viserys’ infectious smile made you sigh like no other boy had done before. You felt yourself unfold and drip into a schoolgirl puddle before his eyes.

“My family, I guess,” he started. “My older brother loved music. He would play wherever he could. People would try to tip him, but he always gave the money away to someone who needed it more. My mother liked to nurture my talents. She was my first audience.”

“I bet they love coming to your shows now, huh?” 

Viserys’ eyes darkened. His smile faded as quickly as it came. “They’re both gone.”

“Oh,” you reacted. You looked away for a moment and quickly wrote notes down. Your words stumbled. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize—

“It’s not common knowledge. I don’t talk about it. I’d appreciate it if you kept their deaths out of the article.” 

You nodded your head. You crossed out your last few notes and kept going. “Sorry I’m so awkward. I feel like I just hit a really bad note.”

Viserys waved you off. He exhaled cigarette smoke in the opposite direction of you. “Everyone’s awkward. I’ve experienced worse.”

“Worse?”

“One time there was a guy who wanted me to sell my underwear to him,” he laughed. 

“What? You’re kidding?! That’s so gross!” you snorted. You quickly covered your nose and mouth. “I’m so sorry. That’s really unprofessional.”

“No, it’s cute. I like girls who laugh,” Viserys licked his bottom lip and locked eyes with you. You heard Robb scoff behind you. 

“Thank you,” you continued. “Speaking of laughs, tell me more about that tattoo? Did you lose a bet?”

“It was a pattern,” Viserys leaned forward. “I’ve fallen for so many girls, but I’ve kept none of them. I guess you could call me a serial dater of sorts. I don’t think anyone wants to be with me forever.”

“And why is that?”

“I don’t like people getting too close to me.” That same darkness fell over Viserys like a cloth. It shielded him and kept him warm. “But that’s what music is for isn’t it? A place to express those kind of feelings. I know I can go out on that stage and sing about how lonely I feel and I’ll have thousands sing it back to me.”

“That’s a beautiful way of putting it. Do you feel like you have the love of the people? Like you’re a true king?”

Viserys bit his bottom lip and looked down. All you wanted was for him to look back at you. He rested his arms on the table. His fingers had rings of dragons and jewels on them. When you looked back up, Viserys met your eyes with his own.

“I’d like to think so. Some people think I’m an asshole,” Viserys shot a look at Robb behind you. “And then there’s other people who know differently. A king can’t please everyone.”

“Do you want everyone to love you?”

“Who doesn’t?” A cocky smile flashed at you. “Fame, money, power. We all crave it in some form.”

“That’s selfish,” Robb commented behind you.

“It’s honest,” Viserys corrected. “Don’t sit there and tell me that your life wouldn’t be better with a little more money and a little more power.”

“Not everyone desires to be rich and famous. There’s actual musicians here who just want to play music and maybe have a chance to be successful.”

“I’m not an actual musician?” Viserys’ cracked his knuckles. “Last time I checked, I wrote all of my lyrics. I helped write the music. I produced each one of my songs. I stand up there and actually sing into the mic. What do you do? Run a little zine your daddy helped you finance?”

Robb stood up quickly out of his chair. Viserys stayed sitting with a smug smile on his face.

“Let’s go, Y/N. We don’t need this interview,” Robb spat. He held the door open for you. You looked back to Viserys and gave him an apologetic look. He still smiled.

“It’s alright, love. We’ll see each other again. I’ll make sure of it,” Viserys held your attention once ore before you left him behind the trailer. Robb huffed and puffed away. He pushed against the security guards. Before they could do anything, you quickly muttered another apology to them before you caught up to him. 

“Hey, what’s wrong?” you tried to comfort him. Robb let out a frustrated yell.

“He’s such an ass! I should’ve known it. He and his band are here to ruin everything for all of the people who deserve it. Because he knows how popular he is. And the way he talked to you is just—

“It’s what? I thought he was nice.”

Robb shook his head. “Come on, you can’t be that naïve. The way he looked at you, it was just disgusting. No one should look or talk to you like that.” You were taken aback. Robb respected you a lot more than you originally thought. Robb now held your attention. His kind eyes told you a lot of things in a moment.

One, Robb may have feelings for you. Two, Robb wanted people to respect you even though you were barely a journalist. And three, in one way or another, Robb really did care about you and safety. You smiled to yourself. 

“I’m going to go,” Robb exhaled and touched the back of his neck. “I’m not in the mood for lead singers or their bands.”

“Hey, you should go see how your brother’s doing. I have a feeling he may have gotten people-overload.”

Robb nodded. “You’re right. He hates people. I should go check in on him. Do you wanna come?”

You shook your head. “No, I think I’ll wander around here, but you should tell your brother I said hi.” 

“Oh yeah?” Robb laughed. “You like him a lot, don’t you?” You started to walk away.

“What can I say? I like Stark boys,” you disappeared into the crowd before Robb could react to it. The crowd was filled with teenagers taking selfies with their friends, punk rock moms who held their kids on their shoulders so they could see the band too, and a fan in a wheelchair who watched their favorite band from close to the stage.

You found yourself at a clothing booth. They had all black clothing. Patches to put on jean jackets were neatly laid out. One crop top that said ‘Witch’ caught your eye. You flagged the salesperson down and she sold you one.

“That’s going to look so cute on you,” she said. “If I had to be honest, if you put that shirt on you would be set for the Bastard show tonight.”

“Bastard show?”

“Yeah, it’s at 11 tonight. It’s at that that tent over there.”

“Which tent?”

“No, that tent. Over there.” She pointed it out to you. 

“This tent?”

“No, that tent.”

“Oh! That tent! Okay thank you!” You walked away shaking your head. You were messing up with so many people today. 

Later that night, you had the witch crop top on when you lingered at the edge of the Bastards show. Your eyes scanned the crowd. Men in their 20s with wed and cigarettes in their hands exhaled smoke in the air. Girls with mohawks laughed with their friends and took swigs from flasks. This was going to be a fun kind of show.

The lights dim and flashed quickly. A skewed note played for a while. The crowd got excited and moved forward. Hands and wicked gestures flashed towards the band. They made their way onto the stage. The lead singer started to sing and growl into the mic. Soon, the crowd started to form a mosh pit. You watched a few people stay in the circle and bang their heads. Mostly everyone backed up and formed a large empty space. You moved up against the fence right at the edge.

“C’mere sweetheart, you’re safer over here!” A security reached for your hand. Confused, you took it. He helped you over the barrier between the crowd and the stage. Then, you noticed you still had the backstage pass on you. You smiled to yourself and thought, ‘Maybe I’m not fucking up as much as I think I am.’ You watched the crowd anticipate the music.

Then the beat dropped.

The mosh turned into a complete fucking ruckus. People rushed their bodies towards each other and let each have at it. You watched a drunk guy attempt to punch someone and that someone punch him square in the belly. People dived into one another. The hardcore beat surged a horrid and naughty energy into the crowd. They screamed and stuck out their tongues.

It was electric. It was freedom. This is what the fest was really about. You turned to see each band member going hard at their instruments. Sweat formed on their heads. Their heads banged to the music too. 

The second song began and you plopped down against the strong and reinforced barrier. You took out your phone and started to take photos of the band called ‘Bastards’. The lead came to the edge of the stage and started to sing.

_“I've got this planet in my hands_  
You know I'll waste it if I can  
Come on let's give it a twist  
And if it all turns to shit  
Oh wait, let's try that again.” 

The lead singer noticed you sitting down there. A sly smile formed on his face. As if he found treasure in the sea of people. His blue eyes never left yours. He continued to sing.

_“My life's too short to have a plan_  
Here, let me help you understand  
First take this drink and this pill  
Relax your mind and be still  
Let's find out who I am” 

His voice held a long note and he knelt on the stage before you. His hand slipped behind his back. You leaned forward and wondered what exactly he was doing. Your camera focused on him. He pulled the shirt over his head and said the chorus while watching you.

_“I'm just American trash.”_

His wicked smile turned into his tongue hanging out of his mouth. His head banged along with the crowd. The lights spazzed out while the crowd jumped to the beat. You could almost feel the ground shaking. The lead singer’s body was on full-on display for you. His stomach had muscles and his bare chest was too delicious to look away from. 

He noticed you watching him again. He knelt down closer to where you were and beckoned for you to come closer. Something told you this was dangerous, but your inner Margie couldn’t pass this opportunity up. He looked like a mixture of rock and poison. An all-American bad boy.

You walked up to the stage. You saw his dilated eyes and how they watched you. Like you were the only thing he wanted right now. An electricity built up between both of you. He sung the bridge once more. His face was close to yours. He growled the chorus and brought your lips to his. His kiss was rough and passionate. You heard several whoops from the crowd. 

You backed away first and he continued to perform. He took one last look at you and bit his bottom lip. You walked out of there before you could be tempted to do more things on stage with him. You made another mental memo to yourself.

You gotta sleep with whoever just kissed you just now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did anyone catch that Bonnaroo joke in the chapter?? Anyone? just me? It's fine.


	4. Boys Are Really Nice To Look At, They’re Also Really Nice To Touch

You pressed ‘enter’ and your new article was submitted. At first, you wanted to publish your interview with Viserys, but after Robb’s outburst, you decided covering the band you saw last night would be more fun. Your mind couldn’t forget that kiss. How rough it was. How hungry it made you. 

“You alright?” you heard from beside you. Robb Stark stood there with two cups of coffee watching you lick your lips while staring at your computer screen.

“I’m just really into my article.” You explained, nodding your head entirely too much. 

“Yeah? You sure?” Robb said, holding back a laugh or two. 

“Oh, I’m sure,” you took the second cup and stared at him. His light eyes didn’t match any ocean or body of water. They were lovely to look at, and you wanted to drown yourself in them. His facial hair was well-kept and his curls on top of his head made you want to run your fingers through them regardless if he was your boss or not.

“Listen, you’ve been doing a really great job lately. Your articles are really hitting some high numbers. I thought we could discuss you staying with us permanently,” Robb smiled. You felt your joy bubble up inside of you and get the best of you. Your arms were around Robb before you could even register it.

“Oh my god! Like as a staff writer? Are you serious?” you squealed. “That’s amazing! Yes! Yes! Yes!” You jumped up and down in his arms, and Robb didn’t let you go. He finally pulled away from you, still beaming. His million dollar smile was worth every second you stared at it.

“I’m so glad!” His smile still didn’t fade. His happiness was so genuine that you felt it too. 

“So, what happens now?” 

“Well,” Robb pulled up a chair and started talking. “You’ll still cover the Battle of the Bands. It’s clear people like reading you. After that, we can decide what you like to write and what fits with us. You do get a raise, and it’s decent.”

“That sounds so wonderful! We should celebrate,” you grabbed Robb’s arm. 

“Celebrate? I’m listening.”

After several speedy text messages, two phone calls, and an uber ride. Robb and you found yourselves at Sunspot. Renly walked in and greeted you both immediately.

“Welcome to the team!” Renly gave you a big hug. “I had a feeling you’d fit in with us.”

“Thank you!” you squealed. Out of the corner of your eye, you watched Loras clean the same glass over and over and over again. You bit your lip in excitement. Time to play your social chess again. You guided Renly over to Loras and sat down in your favorite bar stool. 

“Renly, have you met Loras? He’s the one that makes your tacos.”  
“You make my tacos?” A smile graced Renly’s face like he was given free ice cream. “They’re so amazing!” Loras touched the back of his neck, color coming to his cheeks.

“Thank you,” he sheepishly said. “There was this new recipe I wanted to try, but the kitchen won’t let me.”

“Really? What kind?” Renly’s mouth started to salivate at the thought of new tacos. You chuckled and turned back to see Robb speaking with Margaery. As much as you loved your best friend, seeing her next to Robb made your skin crawl. You made your way between the two, bringing a slight frown to Margaery, and a great smile from Robb.

“See what I did?” you wiggled your eyebrows at Margaery, gesturing to Loras. Margaery smiled at you, wiggling her eyebrows back.

“You and your social chess,” she smirked.

“Social chess?” Robb inquired. Margaery tossed back her hair.

“She’s really good at it. You could never tell what she’s doing until you’re caught in it. Y/N plays with people. She matches them up, gets revenge, and even flirts with you and you don’t even know it.”

“Oh, I know when she flirts with me,” Robb stole a look. “I like to flirt back when she lets me.” You wanted to squeal, but you kept your emotions inside while Margaery and you shared a look. Margaery continued.

“And what if she pushes the envelope?”

“She wouldn’t. Y/N isn’t a bother to me,” Robb shrugged and sipped at his beer. “I like her around. I think she likes us too. I do remember you telling me you liked Stark boys.”

“I do, your brother Jon caught my eye. Then again, I can get distracted.” You winked at Robb, feeling confident. He chuckled, matching the same energy as you. The afternoon went on smoothly. The five of you drinking and drinking until another Stark boy walked through the door. Jon’s dark curls enchanted you every time you saw them. His big eyes and Henley shirt screamed at you while he sat down across from you. 

“Finished another set?” Robb asked. “How did it go?” Jon smiled and pointed at you.

“Ever since this one interviewed me, it’s like I’m playing at the fest. People coming and stuffing themselves anywhere they can fit! The bar owners gave me a bonus for attracting customers.” Jon stole a swig of his brother’s beer. 

“See what happens when you get girls involved?” Robb placed his arm behind you, around your shoulders. “They make everything better.” You almost wanted to roll your eyes at the compliment, but you gave Robb a good nudge instead.  
“Come on, you don’t mean that.”

“I do! I had Renly write the Battle of the Bands all these years, and then you come along, and you bring new bands into the limelight, give my brother success, and you look cute doing it.” 

“Hey now!” Renly argued. “I have fans! People read my shit too! And I also look cute!” 

“He does,” Loras mouthed to you, laughing.

“I owe a lot to you today,” Jon beamed at you. He looked to Robb and then back to you. “Has Robb told you about the beach house?”

“No!” You turned to Robb. “You have a beach house?!”

“Our family has a beach house,” Robb corrected. 

“We should take her there,” Jon suggested. “How would you like to go? It’d be just a day. Robb can do without you for just a day.” You looked to Robb and gave him your best, most innocent-wanting smile you could. Robb sighed, sitting back. You could smell his cologne on his chest.

“Alright. One day.” 

“Yes! Thank you!” You hugged Robb, holding him tighter than you thought you would. You could say you don’t know your own strength, but you could also tell the truth. You hugged Robb like that because you could and you wanted to, but why spoil the fun?

You looked at Jon for a moment. He turned his head sharply away from both of you. He was quick to look at his phone for a distraction. He hid the sadness in his eyes with the reflection of Instagram scrolling. You smiled to yourself. He was jealous.

You let go of Robb who seemed a little sad that you let go, but he kept talking with Margaery. Renly and Loras sat closer and closer every minute that passed by. After a couple of more drinks, you felt the familiar buzz take over. It was if the ‘party goblin’ wanted to come out and play. You could feel her desires itch your brain. ‘Go to the Fest.’ ‘Go make out with that dangerous boy from last night.’ ‘Do something stupid.’

The hunger of drunk you became too much. You stood up from your seat and headed for the door. Wait. You stopped. Your heels turned right back around, and you marched yourself back to the table. Without explanation or any warning, you kissed Jon on the cheek.

“I’ll wear something cute. You tell me when,” you winked before you officially left Sunspot. The crowd was thickening on the streets due to the late night sets at the Battle of the Bands. You found yourself at a late night set. 

The ‘Bastard’ flag caught your eye. A dead man on an unholy crucifix. People moshed around the center of the crowd. They pushed themselves around and laughed while people punched them in the face. The bright red light highlighted their cuts, nosebleeds, and their clothes. Your eyes directed you upward to the lead singer. His messy dark hair looked so soft. You wanted to run your fingers through it while he spat in your face. You could see his blue eyes from where you stood. You held your backstage pass close to your chest. 

Time to do something stupid, indeed.

You took one step forward and felt yourself being dragged back. You turned to see who the hell was stopping you from kissing the bastard on stage. Black hair and a wicked smile greeted you.

“It’s you, that Scene reporter,” Viserys said. “What are you doing here?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” you smirked back. 

“Where’s your boyfriend at? Is he here with you?” Viserys shouted, making sure you heard him. You shook your head.

“Robb’s not my boyfriend. He’s my boss. I’m here by myself.”

“Are you?” his smile turned too delicious for you to handle. “You know, we never got to finish our interview.” His head nodded towards the true backstage of the festival. The trailers where the bands stayed. The bastard’s singing voice was tantalizing, but the offer from the dragon was much more fun. You saw his empty hand and took it for yourself.

“Lead the way, or you’ll wake the dragon,” you told him. Viserys’ cocky smile made your knees a bit weak, but you followed him to the trailers. Some band members stood out and took cigarette breaks while others chilled right outside their trailers just listening to the music that boomed from the city park. Holding Viserys’ hand was a much different experience than hugging Robb. Robb’s grip easily let you go. Viserys kept a firm grip on you as he led the way to his band’s trailer. 

It was empty. You looked around to see if anyone was there or not until Viserys answered that question for you.

“They’re all at the Bloody Bastards show,” he explained. “We’re friends. They toured with us before. Really nice guys believe it or not.” Viserys sat in the booth. He patted the seat next to him. You sat comfortably next to him. He smelled of cigarettes and booze, but you didn’t mind as much. You must have smelled the same.

“So,” you started. “Where did we leave off?” Viserys shrugged, keeping his eyes on you. 

“We can start up with anything the pretty lady asks,” his smile was noted, but you focused more on his eyes. They dilated when they spoke about you. 

You pushed a piece of hair behind your ear. “Why are you doing this? Don’t you have a bajillion fans already?”  
“We’re not signed. We’ve put out some albums, but it would be nice for someone to sign us. That, plus I like the competition.”

“You like the competition? You think you have competition?”

“I do,” Viserys’ face turned serious. “There’s a lot of good bands out there. Bloody Bastards, for example. I had some money to get my band started. Ramsay’s worked for everything he has. Then there’s the famous song “Rains of Castamere’, and of course there’s that really cool folk band…”

“Oceans Away,” you told him. “You’re thinking of Theon Greyjoy.” Viserys snapped his ring-covered fingers. 

“Yes! Exactly. There’s a lot of talent here, and I really, really enjoy winning.”Viserys leaned forward. 

“Do you think you can beat everyone and win this thing?” you asked him honestly.

“I don’t think. I know.”

“What else do you know, hm?” you challenged him. You had the feeling he liked to be challenged. Viserys sat all the way back, taking you all in.

“I know if I keep looking at you any longer, I’m going to want to have a taste.”

“Like a snack?” you bit your lip. Ah, here’s the something stupid you were looking for. Viserys’ fingers played with yours. His deep voice cut through all the noise outside.

“Exactly like a snack,” Viserys’ fingers played with edges of your shirt. “Your boss won’t like me spending time with you.” Your buzzed mind answered something quick.

“Who says he tells me what to do?” You went in for it first. Your lips crashed against his and moved. You were going to control him now. Viserys moved his leg to allow you to come closer to him. His hands placed themselves at your hips. He kissed you back with as much passion as you gave him. His tongue slipped inside your mouth and moved around. He tasted like a sin. Someone you weren’t supposed to kiss at all.

You ran your fingers through his hair and climbed into his lap. His hand ran up your thigh. His grip grew tight every inch that it touched. He wanted you as his, and he was going to get it. Viserys reached his hand up your shirt. His warm hand shocked your skin. Goosebumps trailed behind his touch. He reached for the fabric of your bra until you both heard the door.

The trailer door opened to one of Viserys bandmates dragging another girl inside with her. Both of them gasped to see you and Viserys together.

“Viz! I’m sorry!” she giggled. He waved it off. You wanted to move off of him, but Viserys kept his arms around you. 

“Go on, have fun,” he nodded to the back of the bus. “Be safe, Lori!” Both of the girls giggled themselves past you and you quickly heard them moaning. 

“I think I should go,” you slowly moved off of him. Viserys followed you outside the trailer. Your back was against the outside wall while Viserys tucked his fingers under your chin.

“Promise me you’ll come back another time?” he asked.

“Only if you behave,” you teased while playing with the collar of his shirt. That sinful smirk came back naturally to him like music did.

“I can’t promise I’ll behave. I tend to be naughty around girls like you.”

“Girls like me?”

“Girls who leave me hungry,” Viserys kissed you once more. It was softer and slower than the one in the trailer. He took his time moving his lips against yours. Once he let you go, you already missed his warmth. You turned around and made your long trek home.

Note to Self: Leave them hungry every time.


	5. Answering Phones are for Losers, and I’m the Biggest Loser because I answer the Phone for my Mom

You stood in line for elephant ear, and the smell of the cinnamon and sugar were teasing you. Every time you stepped closer the smell grew stronger. As if the booth was giving you a preview of what was to come. You watched a teenage couple walk away with their own treat. You wished you were a worse person so you could steal theirs and feel no guilt about it. 

Once you reached the front of the booth, you placed your order and within moments you had your own elephant ear in your hands. The dough was the size of a small country. The cinnamon and sugar left your mouth salivating. You tasted it. All of the sweetness melted in your mouth and you wondered why vegetables even existed. Why eat healthy when you could live off of elephant ears?

You heard music from both sides of the festival, but you didn’t feel like going to any concerts with your hands full of dough and sugar. That’s when the idea smacked you in the face.

Renly had spent last year writing about the music and bands. Some gained fame from his writings. But, there was also local food and local artists here as well. Selling their food and art to everyone. They equally sent their time working hard for this festival. They should be known too.

Everywhere around you had different booths filled with either food, art, or a charity or two who wanted to be known. Some had lines, others had one or two people wandering around. You stood in front of another menu staring at the chalk and the impressive handwriting you wouldn’t even try to copy. You ordered something more savory. A chicken parm sandwich warmed your hands and your heart while you ate it. You felt your phone vibrate, but you ignored it. Between bites, you wrote notes and possible questions to ask them later. As you took your last bite, your eyes glazed over two young men hovering next to a homemade lemonade booth. 

As you got closer, one of them started to look familiar.

“Y/N? Y/N! Hey! Come here!” Viserys shouted out to you. His hand waved in the air, beckoning you to come to him. Once you reached him, he offered you his lemonade. You sipped it without question. After a big gulp, you cringed and stepped back.

“What is that?!” you exclaimed.

“It’s vodka. Vodka and lemonade.” Viserys chuckled. His friend started to laugh too. You took another look at him and recognized the dark curls, blue eyes, and cocky smile.

“You’re that guy. The Bastard guy.” You told him. 

“Bastard guy,” Viserys chuckled. His friend pushed him. 

“It’s Ramsay. I’m not a real bastard,” Ramsay explained. Viserys snorted and took another sip of his alcoholic concoction. “Some people claim I’m a bastard. I just think I’m an asshole.”

“It’s alright. I get along with both bastards and assholes.”

“She does,” Viserys added. He winked and then gave Ramsay a look.

“Wait, is this the girl you told me about?” Ramsay asked, pointing to you.

“What?” You reacted, smiling at Viserys. “You talking about me?”

“I may be talking about you. I told Ramsay I knew the girl he kissed the first night he performed.” Your face turned red.

“So that was you?” Ramsay smiled. After you nodded, Ramsay kept talking. “You’re a good kisser.”

“Thank you,” you smiled to yourself. If someone came to you last summer and told you that you’d be hanging out with two lead singers from rock bands and that you had kissed both of them, you would slap the shit out of that someone. But here you were. Standing in between them like you were the meat of the hottie sandwich. 

“So, who are you interviewing today? Someone appropriate for the boss?” Viserys said. You shook your head.

“I told you. He doesn’t tell me what to do. Besides, I’m not interviewing. I’m eating.”

“What? Are you off today?” 

“No,” you said. “I’m doing a piece on the fest’s food and art.” You felt your phone vibrate again, and you ignored it again.

“Wait,” Ramsay held his hands up. “You’re gonna spend all day eating and drinking and then write about it?”

“Basically yeah.”

Without another beat, Ramsay nodded his head. “I’m fucking in.”

“Me too,” Viserys quickly said afterward. He nodded his head to the lemonade booth. “They got different flavors here. Some with alcohol, some with actual fruit. You looked at the menu more, enticed by Viserys’ endorsement. The selection between fruit and alcohol and twists on normal lemonade made your decision overwhelming. Until you saw them making frozen strawberry lemonade. 

You carried the cold drink in your hands while the boys and you wandered at different booths. The first booth carried homemade soaps and beauty products. The smells of oatmeal, lavender, and mint tickled your nose each time you smelled a different soap. You interviewed the owner who was more than happy to answer any question you had. He gave you and the boys free samples of new products he was going to try.

While you waited with Ramsay, Viserys went to the bathroom after the third alcoholic he had that day. Your phone vibrated again. This time you checked it. Robb’s name showed up. You explained your piece to him and put your phone away.

“He was like this on tour too,” Ramsay commented to you. “Drinking and then pissing. Drinking more. Pissing more. Then he would sing. Then drank and pissed more.”

“Well, at least he’s good at three things,” you shrugged and then laughed with Ramsay. His laughter faded while yours continued.

“You know you’re really cute,” Ramsay said. “I kind of regretted that kiss at first, but I really don’t now.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. What about you?”

You hadn’t really thought about it. It was a spontaneous kiss. You thought you would never see him again or know his name. Then again, you felt a pull to him. Like he was something terrible and you wanted more of it no matter how bad it was for you.

“If I had to be honest,” you started. “I think I’d like to kiss you more too.”  
“We can make that happen,” Ramsay winked. Viserys tucked in his 80s rock shirt into his black pants and sniffed the air as if he smelled something awful.

“What are you guys talking about?” His eyes squinted at both of you until he slid down his sunglasses. 

“Nothing. I’m just winning a bet. That’s all.” Ramsay started to walk away without the two of you.

“Wait. What? What bet?” You asked Ramsay. 

“The one where Viz thinks he can win you over. He told me about you two making out in the trailer.”

“You told him that?!” you pushed Viserys a bit. 

“Yeah I did. I’m sorry, do you not brag to your friends about making out with hot boys?” Viserys said. You frowned at him. Viserys had a good fucking point and there was nothing you could do about it. That bastard. You told Margie about every by you’ve kissed, loved, hated, and punched. You remembered telling Margie about your prom sex and she was thrilled for you.

“Whatever,” you shook your head while laughing. “Too bad both of you have competition.” You thought you heard Viserys make a choking noise.

“What’s that supposed to mean, sweetheart?” Ramsay asked. His face turned from soft to hard.

“It means what it means. You two aren’t the only guys I’ve spent time with. Winning me over won’t be easy,” you shrugged, smiled and kept going, leaving them in the dust. 

“It’s your boss isn’t it? I had a feeling he liked you,” Viserys was smart. You’ll give him that, but you didn’t satisfy him with an answer.

“Your boss? You’re a risky one, aren’t you?” Ramsay’s smile tried to hide itself, but you noticed it anyways. You felt a bit dangerous. As if you had Ramsay, Viserys, Jon, and Robb in the palm of your hands. Each of them interested in you. They couldn’t keep up with you. It was a powerful feeling, and a good one.

The day continued. Booth after booth you interviewed artist after artist, merchant after merchant, and even a street performer who was learning how to play with fire. Ramsay, Viserys, and you ate more food together. The sun was setting and your belly was full of empanadas, loaded fries, green tea ice cream, and more lemonade than you ever drank in your life.

Viserys moaned. “I have to go to sound check.” His voice dragged on every single word. His legs sprawled out on the grass. “I don’t want to go.”

“Well if you don’t go, there won’t be a show to go to,” you explained.  
“I’ll go if you promise to hang with me later,” Viserys winked at you. You rolled your eyes.

“I’ll hang, but don’t poison me like that again.”

“That’s how he is. He makes you three drinks and you don’t remember things,” Ramsay explained.

“I have a feeling that’s happened a lot.” You said as you watched Viserys stand up. 

“I still don’t remember what happened on Halloween two years ago,” Ramsay stared off into the distance. “The only thing he’ll tell me is that I spent 75 dollars.”

“On what?” you looked to Viserys who was snickering.

“You don’t wanna know. You think you do, but you don’t.” Without another word, Viserys left you with the bastard alone again. Ramsay shifted closer to you. 

“Do you have a show tonight?” you asked Ramsay who was watching his friend walk away into the crowd. 

“No, I’m actually off tonight. The rest of the band will probably join us soon actually. We wanted to watch Blackfyre together. Do you wanna come? Or will your boss be mad that you haven’t written anything?”

You laughed. “Why do you and Viserys think that Robb Stark runs my life?”

“Robb Stark is your boss?” Ramsay snorted. “Oh yeah. He definitely runs your life.” Your felt your phone vibrate. As you check it, you caught Ramsay trying to read your messages. You kept your phone to yourself and finished your message before your attention returned to Ramsay. 

“He doesn’t run my life.”

“Then who texted you?”

“That’s not relevant.” 

“Is it now?” Ramsay challenged. His eyes held a dangerous idea and you were itching to know. “Prove it. Come hang with me tonight and don’t write that article.”

“It’s due tomorrow morning. I have to post it by 7am.”

Ramsay shrugged. “He runs your life.”

“No, he doesn’t.”

“Then come with me. Drink with me. Kiss me,” Ramsay inched closer to you. 

“Are you trying to win the bet?” you asked before truly answering his request. 

“I don’t need to win the bet,” Ramsay explained. “I could have you if I wanted to.”

“Oh? How so?” you chuckled. Ramsay’s hand wrapped around you and pulled you closer. His eyes were much bluer than you thought. Here you thought that only angels had blue eyes, then again, the devil was an angel too. His lips parted, and suddenly you felt a thirst you hadn’t felt with Viserys. Ramsay’s finger tucked itself under your chin.

“See? I don’t need to do much. I don’t need this bet. I already have you.” 

You wanted to punch him for saying that, but you realized how close you were to him. For the second time today, he was right. He spoke as if his voice was laced with something dangerous. He smoked as if he didn’t care what happened to his body. His eye bags hung so low that you wondered if he ever slept. 

“Let’s say I go somewhere with you, what would we do?” 

“Are you asking me if we would play it safe or not?” 

“I’m asking you what we would do,” you repeated your question. Ramsay shifted his weight and stared over at the main stage. 

“I have an idea,” Ramsay smirked. 

He did tell you his friends would want to watch the Blackfyre show. What Ramsay did not tell you is that his band had bought a large amount of weed with them. When you finished a smoking session with them, you felt so calm that anxiety was only a word in a dictionary. You could say you felt ‘funny’, but you also felt like yourself only happier. The loaded fries you shared with the bass player melted in your mouth along with the gravy that topped it. You made a mental note to include it in your food article.

Your backstage pass got you onto the stage with Blackfyre with Ramsay and the rest of his band. All of you stood stage left behind the scenes, watching Blackfyre set up their stage for the night. You felt arms wrapped themselves around your waist.

“Oh hello,” you giggled. You weren’t sure if you giggled because of the marijuana you smoked or because Ramsay’s fingers tickled your sides.

“Hello,” his voice purred into your ear. He held you there in that position while you both lost yourselves in listening to the sound check. You knew it wasn’t the actual show, but the random notes that played danced in your head. Ramsay and you tried to make a song out of it, but both of you laughed when Ramsay rhymed ‘stoop’ with ‘poop’. 

When Viserys took the stage you perked up excited to finally watch him play. You had moved here from out of state, and everyone told you how good they were. Even Margaery. 

The first guitar and drum notes started to play and you watched the audience get pumped up and scream as the first song started to roll out. Viserys started to sing. His dark and deep voice greeted your ears like a mysterious handsome stranger in the night asking to use your phone. 

_All we know that's time  
It's slipping from our lives  
I want to get the truth  
Hidden in the lies_

The guitar swelled and you had the feeling this song would want to make you hack into the government and take them down or at least punch something in the name of anarchy. You started to stare at Viserys more. His tattered shirt showed off his body’s tattoos. 

_Standing on the stage  
Bleeding out out youth  
Create the holy one  
And sell it back to you_

Ramsay’s arms tightened around you. “You like looking at him, huh? What about me?” He was playing a game. You didn’t need to be high to know that, but you did decide to play along. 

“You’re hot too, but I think he’s the better kisser.” You shot back. You felt Ramsay squeeze your sides. His hot breath warmed your ear.

“Is that a challenge?”

You turned around and took the risk. Your hands wrapped around his neck. Your lips met his perfectly. You moved against him to see if he was bluffing, he wasn’t. Ramsay opened his mouth to let you in, but quickly took control soon after. His kiss was deep and mesmerizing. You forgot everyone around you and focused on his mouth. Your eyes opened slightly to see Ramsay was looking elsewhere. 

You pulled away to see Viserys, still preforming, looking to both of you. His eyes narrowed and an angry frown found his face. Luckily, he was singing an angry song. He screamed into the mic while the mosh pit grew intense. 

“You’re trying to make him jealous? Bold.” You commented. Ramsay grabbed your hand and pulled you away from the stage.

“Wanna go somewhere private? We could continue,” Ramsay’s voice trailed off. At that moment, you remembered your last mental note.

“Not tonight,” you winked. You gave Ramsay one last kiss before you left him in the dust. You could hear him calling after you, but you ignored it. A smile formed on your face. As you walked through the crowd, your mind was sobering up from the whole ordeal. You could say you weren’t paying attention or still just high off of Ramsay. You bumped into someone, and when you backed up you felt hairs on your skin rise.

“Where have you been?” Robb asked you. “Why haven’t you answered your phone?”

Note to Self: Answer your damn phone.


	6. True Friends Stab You in the Front

“Robb? Wha—

“I called you eight times! Why weren’t you answering?”

“What’s wrong? I don’t—

“Margie got into a car accident! I was trying to call you.” Robb’s anger flared up even more when he saw Ramsay slowly approaching you both. “Oh, great. The demonic bastard.”

You turned to see Ramsay closer than you wanted him to be. His hand hovered your hips before you swatted it away. Robb saw Blackfyre’s banners and Viserys still owning the stage. The puzzle pieces were coming together now.

“You were here for him. I told you how bad of a slimeball he is, and here you are.” Robb said.

“You think she’s here for him?” Ramsay scoffed. His arm around your waist now without any kind of consent. “You’re wrong.”

Robb scoffed. “Him? Really? Whatever. I’m going back to the hospital—

“Margie’s in the hospital?!” You stepped forward. 

“Yeah. Remember I said car accident. Or were you too thirsty to pay attention?” Robb stormed off without you. Leaving you in the complete dust. Margie was in the hospital because of a car accident. What if she tried to call you? You quickly checked your phone. No messages from her. Just the guilty missed calls and texts from Robb. 

“Fuck!” You shouted. 

“You friend’s in the hospital?” Ramsay inquired. His glare followed the direction Robb headed in.

“My best friend is in the hospital,” you said, wanting so desperately to cry. “And I’m here.”

The words felt so empty when they left your mouth. You stared off in the distance thinking of what to do next.

“Hey, you need a ride?” Ramsay offered.

“What?” you reacted, seeing Ramsay with a pair of keys in his hand. 

“I got a car. We could go.”

“I don’t even know which hospital she’s at,” you explained. 

“It has to be the downtown one. They have an emergency room big enough to handle bad crap like this.”

“How do you know that?” you asked. Without another beat, Ramsay responded.

“I put a lot of people there.”

Typical.

The way towards the downtown hospital wasn’t fill with much traffic, but more tension. Ramsay and you hadn’t spoken the entire time. You would glance over at him to see a concentrated face. You kept your thoughts to yourself. Kissing Ramsay and flirting with Viserys felt good, dangerous even. Hurting Robb like that didn’t feel so great. Seeing him look at you with disgust and realization hurt more than anything.

Yet, Ramsay didn’t feel any hurt at all. He simply drove. Like he turned off all emotion.

“Are you mad with me?” you asked.

“No, why would you say that?” Ramsay asked, turning right at the light without using any sort of turning signal.

“Because you saw Robb and me. You put your arm around my waist.”

“Do you like him?” Ramsay asked. 

“Yeah-yeah I think I do.”

“No, it’s yes or no. Not an ‘I think I do’. Don’t give me a bullshit answer if you think that’s what I want to hear.”  
“I like Robb. He gave me my first job here. He’s one of my first friends. And—

“You like him. I know,” Ramsay filled in for you. 

“No, it’s—

“It’s like that. It’s always been like that,” Ramsay turned left without a turning signal. Someone beeped at him. He promptly gave the driver an obscene hand gesture.

“What’s that mean?”

“What? You don’t know?” Ramsay chuckled. You kept looking at him. Ramsay laughed even more. “Oh my god. You really don’t know, do you?”

“No,” you shook your head. “What are you talking about?”

“Why your job was open in the first place. Robb had another cute thing for a female writer named Robyn” Your stomach dropped. Here you were feeling terrible that you left Robb hanging, but maybe he wasn’t so good after all. 

“Go on,” you said as you felt an anger bubbling deep down beneath.

“She was Sansa’s friend. She got the job on her word, plus Robb thought she was cute. Kinda like how he thinks you’re cute. They got on really well. Did interviews together. Went to the fest together. It wasn’t long after that that they became a thing. He never said she was his girlfriend, just a fling. He never went beyond that, so she dumped him. And he fired her.”

Ramsay parked by the Emergency Room entrance. The car turned off and he looked over at you.

“He did that, huh?” You felt your anger in your throat. If you weren’t careful you’d say some pretty nasty things. “You wouldn’t lie to me to get me in bed, would you?”

Ramsay chuckled. “Sweetheart, I don’t need to lie to get you in bed with me.”

“How do you know all of this?”

“Sansa posts about a lot of drama. She and I used to be a thing. I like to keep tabs on my enemies.”

“Sansa is your enemy?”

“A good one too. At first, you’d think she’s some dumb bitch,” Ramsay shook his head. “Do not fuck with Sansa Stark. Anyways, do you want me to go in with you or what?”

You looked at the ER entrance, knowing fully well that Robb could be in there. You would have to talk to him. You took in a sharp inhale and got out of the car. Before you could slam it behind you, you heard Ramsay.

“So I’m guessing I’m not coming?” You slammed the car door in his face. He sped off without as much as a goodbye. Ramsay could take a hint. Good. You suddenly didn’t feel that thirsty for boys right now.

You stormed into the ER waiting room with two agendas in mind. One, find Marge and make sure she was okay. Margaery was your best friend. Hoes before bros any day, all day. You felt a pang of guilt in you. How did you not know she was in a serious car accident? It made your stomach wretched. Two, if Robb was here, you were going to give him a piece of your mind. You didn’t take this job to be the new Robyn. You did not belong to Robb, and you weren’t planning to be.

You were a talented writer with drive, not some pretty thing to look at.

After a kind nurse told you where Margie was, you walked into her room to find Margie being fed ice cream by her brother, Loras. Her left arm was in a cast, but other than that she looked fine. Her life wasn’t in danger. You ran over to her and hugged her tightly.

“Oh! Hey! You’re here!” Margie smiled between bites of the cookie dough. 

“What happened?!” You looked to both of them. 

“Stupid drunk guy,” Margie shook her head. Strands of hair fell from the loose bun on top of her head. “He swerved hard into my side of the car and then he tried to speed off. Cops caught the bastard though.”

You sighed in relief. “And you’re okay?”

“Yeah! I’m taking his ass to court. Ugh, I can’t wait,” Margie smiled. She started to sing in a singsong voice. “I’m getting paid. I’m getting paid. I’m getting paaaaaaaaaaaaaiiiiiiiiiid!”

You glanced at Loras for a moment. He shook his head mentally telling you that ‘No, she’s not on any drugs right now. Margie’s being herself.’ You pulled up a seat for yourself and watched the TV for a moment. That’s when you noticed, Robb wasn’t in the room.

“Was Robb here?” you asked. 

“He was, I saw him call you. Then, he left to find you at the fest. I assumed you guys would come back together,” Loras answered, feeding Margie another bite of the melting ice cream. 

“He’s not here?”

Loras shook his head and cleaned a bit of ice cream off of Margie’s cheek. She returned the favor by slapping his arm.

“I was gonna lick it! What the fuck?” She sat up and faced you. “Did something happen?”

“Uhm—

You looked to Loras and then to Margie. She slapped his arm again. Loras winced.

“What?!” he exclaimed.

“Get out.” Margie hissed.

“This isn’t your bedroom, Marg.” Loras only called her Marg to annoy the shit out of her. She rolled her eyes. 

“Well technically, I’m paying thousands for this goddamned room.”

“Oh? I thought you were getting paaaaaaaaaaaaaaiiiiiiiid,” Loras mocked her. She attempted to swipe at him again, but she missed when he dodged it. He stood up and started to walk out of the room. “I can take a hint. I’m gonna go find a male nurse to flirt with.”

“And Renly?” you asked.

“Renly doesn’t need to know what won’t hurt him,” Loras winked before he swiftly left the room. 

“What happened?” Margaery asked. 

“Robb found me at the Fest at the Blackfyre show,” you paused. “With another guy.”

“Another guy? Viserys? The lead singer?”

“No, the other lead singer. The one I randomly kissed. Bastard dude.” 

“Oh him? He’s hot as fuck, but he’s crazy,” Margie smiled. “Well, I mean I guess I can take him.”

“Margie!”

“Sorry, this is about you. Go on.”

“He wrapped his arms around me, and Robb thinks I was whoring around and not answer my phone. I think he thinks I’m a bad friend to you.”

“But you’re not,” she shook her head. “I know that.”  
“Yeah, but he doesn’t,” you sighed. You felt the anger bubble back up again. “And maybe he doesn’t care.”

“What?” Margie asked. “Is there something I’m missing? I thought we liked him?”

“Ramsay told me in the car about another female writer. Her name was Robyn. She got hired because Robb thought she was cute. They dated, but they were never serious. She dumped him. He fired her.”

“Wait-what the fuck?” 

“Robb came to the fest yelling at me for not answering my phone. Like I was his girlfriend or something.”

“That’s not okay,” Margie said in a more serious tone. “Do you wanna quit? It’s okay if you do. After all, I’m getting paaaaaaaiiiiiiiid.” You laughed and shook your head. 

“No, but I don’t want to be around him for a bit,” you said, sighing onto the bed. Margie rubbed your head with her free right arm. 

“I get it,” she nodded. Both of you looked to the television for a moment, letting the silence fill the room. Margaery broke it not five minutes after. “Do you like this guy?”

“I told you, Robb’s—

“Not Robb. The other guy.”

“Bastard?”

“Yeah.”

“He’s crazy,” you told Margie. She rolled her eyes.

“Well duh. I heard his music. I meant is he like hot crazy?” She asked. When you nodded, both of you burst out laughing. Loras returned to the room, looking a bit dejected. 

“Is everything ok?” he asked.

“I told you that you weren’t allowed in MY room,” Margie blew a raspberry at him.

“Oh? I guess I’ll eat the rest of your ice cream then.”

“No fuck you!” Loras and Margie started to go at it again while you snorted in laughter at everything they said to each other.

Note to Self: Even when things looked bad, siblings made them better…sometimes.


	7. Breathe

The next day you didn’t go to work. You didn’t even bother with the fest. You woke up at a crisp 7am sun peeking through your room. A hot cup of coffee warmed your hand, but you greeted the day with some sobriety. You turned your phone off on purpose. You wouldn’t spend today flirting with boys and getting news stories. 

Before you left Margaery, she instructed you to not visit her. 

She remembered a time where she was hospitalized before, and all you did was check up on her every five minutes. Sure, this was still during your internet friendship, but it still annoyed Margie. If anything, Margaery has a great excuse to relax and enjoy her injury. Well, as much as anyone can enjoy themselves while they are in the hospital.

Margie’s pet bird sang when you went to go greet her. She sang sweet songs to you. Every sip of hot coffee tasted just as wonderful as the last.

You decided to do your own writing on your computer. Your toes curled up and relaxed as you opened a new word document. Words flowed out of you as unusual as it was. You wrote about Viserys and how his hips moved. How good it felt when he kissed you. Then you wrote about Ramsay. How much of an asshole he truly was, but he loved to flirt. 

Then you wrote about Robb. Angry words broke away from the soft thoughts. He treated you like you were his. You belonged to no one. You didn’t have to answer to him or for him. Nastier thoughts started to unfold. What if he did hire you just because you were cute? What if he just hired you so you would date him? All of it left a bad taste in your mouth.

But, Robb wouldn’t do that. No, he proved how good of a person he was. Right? Sure, he was adorable to look at, and he worked hard for the music store and magazine he ran. Still, the darker thoughts clouded your mind. You wanted to hit him. You wanted to call him. You weren’t sure exactly what to do.

You texted Loras. Surely, your gay-pseudo-brother knew what to do.

You to Loras: [ Hey, I still can’t wrap my head around last night. ]

Loras to You: [Oh thank God! I was waiting for you to say SOMETHING. Margie couldn’t keep her mouth shut. Sorry sis.]

You: [I fucking knew it. She told you everything?]

Loras: [Everything. Did you quit or what?]

You: [No, but it hurts. Do you think he hired me so I would date him?]

Loras: [Hunny no. You are a talented and a hardworking writer. Anyone can see that.]  
You pushed away the computer and sat on the sectional couch. Gray clouds started to block the sun. Your fingers made busy work to Loras.

You: [Why does this all feel so weird then? Why do I wanna talk to him? I’m so mad at him! What if I lose my job?] 

A panic started to rumble its way into your head. The questions came soaring afterwards. What if you did lose your job? What if you never got a chance to write again? This was your only chance, and you fucked it up and—

You had to stop. You hated panic attacks. As sociable and popular as you were, panic attacks left you defenseless. Your heart pounded against your chest. Things around you started to be louder and brasher. Margie’s bird singing became a screech in your head. The air you breathed tasted like sharp chalk. It hurt so bad.

You called Loras.

“Loras!” you shouted.

“Hey, hey now. You’re alright,” Loras reassured you. You felt a tear go down your face. Another one fell after it.

“I’m gonna get fired! I can’t get fired!” you told him.

“No, no, no. You are not going to get fired,” Loras told you in a calm, but firm voice. “And even if you did, no one will hate you for it.”

“I’m a failure!” your voice let out. Insecurities bubbled up to the surface. “Robb gave me my one chance at writing for a career! And I fucked it up, didn’t I?”

“No, you didn’t—

“I’m so stupid! Oh my god, I’m so stupid!”

“Y/N, you’re alright. It’s okay! Just—

You heard other noises and a shaking before you heard Loras’ voice again. 

“Y/N, it’s gonna be okay. I can’t help you right now, but there’s someone who is on their way who can. I’m sorry. I can’t leave work. But someone’s on their way, ok? Hang in there for sis.” As Loras hung up the phone, you felt yourself collapse onto the ground. Your cries expelled out of your body as if you were having a fit. You felt your shoulders shake and your teeth chatter.

As the wood in your apartment creaked, you could’ve sworn you felt the room grow smaller. You heard your silly sobs and you wanted to punish yourself further. How stupid were you to think that you could do this? You wanted to find something. You had to punish yourself. This was your fault. It was your fault. It was you—

You heard someone knocking on the door frantically. A voice matched it.

“Y/N! Are you in there?” Jon said. “It’s me! Jon! Loras and Renly sent me here. Are you okay?” You picked yourself off from the floor and walked towards your door with a bewildered expression. After opening two of the three locks, your door creaked open to a worried Jon Snow. 

His dark curls were the same, but you swore you’ve never seen his eyes this close. The sky was darkening and so were his eyes. No sunlight touched the brown color in them. Instead, a darkness colored them darker as if he had his own demons too. They were there in his eyes, just lurking in the background.

“Jon?” your voice creaked out.

“Oh, Y/N. Let me in, okay?” Jon nodded to the door. You stepped back and let him in. You quickly noted his backpack and a few grocery bags he had with him. Confusion replaced most of the tension, but you could still feel the tears come down your face.

“Jon, what are you—

“I heard you over the phone. Loras asked me to come, so here I am,” Jon explained. He set his things down and walked over to you. “What happened?”

You opened your mouth to tell him, but then conveniently remembered who Jon’s brother was. Your mouth closed so fast that you almost hurt yourself.

“I don’t know if I can tell you,” you quietly said.

“You can,” Jon nodded. You shook your head violently.

“I can’t,” your voice broke. Tears streamed down your face again. Without any prompting, Jon pulled you to him. His arms wrapped around you firmly. You felt him breathe calmly. Your nose caught his scent of cologne. He smelled much sweeter than you expected, but it calmed you. You found yourself breathing with him as your sobs were laid to rest. Jon let you out of his warming and reassuring hug while both of you sat on the sofa.

“We don’t have to talk about it,” Jon said. He grabbed his bag. “But, I did bring something that could really help the problem.” You watched Jon pull out a small leather bag, a lighter, and a glass bong. 

“You smoke?” you said, surprised. 

“Yeah,” Jon nodded. “Nearly everyone in the family does.”

“Including Cat? Your mom?”

“She advocates for it, but she’s quiet about it, yeah,” Jon smiled. You watched him pack the weed gently and firmly into the bowl. Then, you watched Jon hit it. The smoke swirled up into his chest. He held it for a moment, and released it. Smoke left his mouth in a singular, long stream. As if he was one of those 1940’s mobsters who cut a good deal with the police.

Jon passed it to you. “It will calm you down. It helps.” You took the bong from him and hit it harder than you wanted. The burn in the back of your throat betrayed you. You ended up coughing much more than you expected. 

“Sorry, it’s been a while,” you said. Jon shook his head and smiled, unpacking the grocery bags filled with all kinds of snacks. Cookies, salty chips and dip, and you spied a king-sized chocolate bar. Your eyes went wide. 

“Oh, yeah, this one’s for you,” Jon offered it to you. You held the king-sized bar to your face, comparing the size. A genuine, hearty laugh left Jon as his eyes squinted. “Feeling better already?”

You took a big bite of the chocolate. “Well, you know what they say, eat this, you’ll feel better.”

Jon relaxed on the sofa and dug into the chips. He squinted at the window. “Oh, well I guess it’s going to rain after all.” The gray clouds outside had blocked out the sun completely. A bit of rain started to drip onto the city streets. Luckily, you decided to not go into the fest today.

“You said Loras sent you here?” you said taking another hit from the bong.

“He did,” Jon nodded.

“Why aren’t you at the pub? You could be playing for another crowd of people who want to get away from the rain,” you pointed out.

Jon shrugged. “Didn’t want to. I didn’t have the energy. Besides, it was never about the crowds for me. I’m happy playing music for just one person.” You smiled to yourself knowing that you were in good company. 

“Did you want to watch something?” you gestured with the remote in your hand. 

“Yeah, anything you want. I’m here to hang with you,” Jon’s smile gave you a sigh of relief. You never knew what to think when someone helped you through a panic attack. Sometimes, your mind went to the absolute worst thoughts. Jon didn’t seem to mind. You clicked on another nature documentary and took another hit from the bong.

“So,” you began another conversation. The rain started to hit the window as thunder rolled. “How long have you been smoking?”

“High school,” Jon said. “On my sixteenth birthday, Uncle Benjen pulled me aside and introduced me to it. You seem really surprised?”

“I don’t know. You don’t seem like the type to—

“Straight edge. Like Robb, right?” Jon chuckled, and you almost did. You bit your lip and became very quiet. Jon moved closer to you. His fingers reached out to you. “You alright?” 

Your continued silence gave Jon the hint.

“What happened with Robb?” Jon’s tone became very dark all of a sudden.

“Last night, I was with someone and Robb was really upset with me.”

“Is this about Margaery going to the hospital?” Jon asked. You nodded and continued.

“He called me over and over and over again. When he found me with someone, he got really angry with me and said some mean things to me and—

Jon held his hand up to stop you. “He told me his side this morning. I know what he said. I know who you were with and everything.”

You felt the tears come back to your eyes, but before you could cry too hard Jon hugged you again. 

“I don’t like what Robb said to you. I especially don’t like what he was going to do about it.”

“He was gonna do something?”

“He was going to fire you,” Jon said. “Until I convinced him how horrible of an idea that was.” Jon sighed and rolled his eyes. He took a long hit for himself. The smoke still came out in a single stream. You weren’t going to lie. You were starting to like this Stark brother much more than the other.

“Why did you do that?”

“Because you’re my friend. And you’re a great writer,” Jon sat back. You joined him. “Robb wants to work with people he likes. That’s why he hires his friends, his family, and sometimes his girlfriends. When he’s mad with people, he holds their job over their head to get them to do what he wants. Robb’s my brother. I love him, but he’s fucked in that regard.”

“Ramsay told me about a girl named Robyn.”

Jon groaned. His hands slid down his face as more frustrated noises came out of him. “

“Robyn. Robyn was a mess. You’re different than her. Very different. Is that why you had a panic attack? You think you’re going to lose your job?” When you nodded, Jon hugged you even more. “That’s not going to happen. I promise you that won’t happen.”

“Do you think I’m a whore?”

“No,” Jon laughed, letting you go. “I think you are a very pretty single girl who just wants to make friends in a new city she just moved to. Anyone who tells you different can fuck off.” You hugged Jon. Letting your arms wrap around his middle and taking in every scent of him. Jon was so nice to you. From the moment you met him till now, he was always so sweet to you.

Which was why you kissed him on the cheek and then backed away very quickly.

Jon sat there, almost stunned. His smile didn’t disappear. 

“So, you’re a little high, huh?” he laughed it off. You felt the relaxing notion of the THC take over a few minute ago, but it didn’t hit you until now. 

“I guess,” you giggled. Your laugh faded into a big smile. “Thanks for coming over. It means a lot to me.” 

“Believe me, I understand more than you think,” Jon gave you a half-smile. You jumped up and grabbed one of your homemade blankets from your room and brought it out to the living room. You tossed it over Jon and smiled. Jon fixated the blanket to give you both room under the quilt warmth.

“Do you wanna stay here all day and get high with me while we watch funny stuff?” you asked, hoping for a yes.

“I would absolutely love that,” Jon patted the seat next to him where you sat. Both cuddled up in a happy bundle while the storm went on. 

Note to Self: Panic attacks are not ok. Getting help from good friends makes it all okay.


	8. Not My Love by Tides of Man is a Kick Ass Song

You published your next article about a small folk band while Renly sat next to you. He sat back in his seat and looked your way.

“I wanted to ask,” he started. “Are you alright? Loras was so worried about you.”

“I’m fine,” you nodded. “Jon really helped yesterday.”

“I thought so,” Renly smiled. He looked over at Robb’s empty office. “Jon’s good for that. He knows people better than other people.” Both of you picked up your things and headed towards Sunspot. Brunch tacos were among the best kind of tacos one could enjoy with a coworker. Once you both sat in your usual spot, a smiley Loras came on over with your usual drinks.

You took a sip of the cold screwdriver and sighed happily. You felt lucky that you could do this in the middle of your day. The smell of cilantro and pork entered your nose while you held onto the cold glass. The summer heat reached you and Renly already. Both of you were secretly happy that you didn’t have to stay in the hot magazine office all day.

Renly stared at his phone. He didn’t bite his nails, but he might as well have.

“Are you alright?” you asked.

“I’m waiting for something, sorry,” Renly replied, turning his attention to you.

“You seem…tense. You sure you’re okay? Is it something you can’t tell me?”

Renly shook his head. As he was about to explain, Loras took over. “They’re making cuts today.”

“Cuts?” It dawned on you. “Oh, the battle.”

“Second round cuts are today,” Loras smiled. “I’m sure your band will be fine. You guys did so great!” 

“I-I don’t know,” Renly said unsure. “I didn’t like the sound of our last show, and then the judge—

Loras put his hand over Renly’s. His smile on him almost made your own heart melt. “Whatever happens, happens. I had a good time at the show. So did everyone else. That’s all that matters, yeah?”

Renly nodded. All three of you looked towards the front door to see a very dangerous man walk through. Ramsay Bolton took a seat next to you. His ice cold eyes lit up with joy.

“There’s a party tonight,” he told all three of you. “For the bands going into the next round, of course.” Ramsay’s choice of words was noticed quickly by Renly and Loras. Their eyes made like daggers.

“Renly hasn’t gotten the call back yet,” Loras said. “I’m assuming you got in.”

“Got the call this morning,” Ramsay smirked, sitting back in the chair. The dagger necklace that sat on his chest dulled in the light. “You haven’t gotten anything, have you?”

“How did you know we were here?” you asked. Ramsay pulled out his phone and showed you your own status update on Facebook checking into the Sunspot.

“You’re so easy to stalk,” Ramsay said. “You check in everywhere there’s a discount to be had. Silly girl.” You glanced back at the pair and jumped out of your seat, dragging Ramsay along behind you. 

The summer heat in the city made everyone drag to their locations. Walking dogs panted as they trotted by you. Ramsay still smirked, satisfied with himself.

“What do you want?” you asked.

“You’ve never been this way with me,” Ramsay tilted his head. “Aren’t you happy for me?”

“You’re making my friends feel bad.”

“And I would care because—

“Those are my friends?” You narrowed your eyes at him. “What are you playing at?”

“You’re coming to the party,” Ramsay told you. “Viz will be there. Wear something that will disappoint your parents.” Without another word, he left you in front of Sunspot wondering what the hell to do. 

Luckily for you, your bored and healing best friend had nothing to do with her day.

“You gotta go to the party,” Margaery insisted. “You have a chance to hook up with not one, but two rock stars and you’re debating whether to go or not?”

“Ramsay’s a prick.”

“A hot prick! A hot prick who wants you. What’s not to love?”

“So, if I go, and I see them there. Who do I go for?”

“Who do you like more?” Margie posed the question. It was a good one. You didn’t give it much thought. You lived from moment to moment despite the whirlwind of events that have already happened. You thought of the four boys.

Robb was your first friend here. He gave you your first job here and a golden ticket to the Battle of the Bands. He was sweet and kind until you pissed him off. Without Jon, you wouldn’t have a job right now. You cared for Robb, but you weren’t sure if you should go further. Would you want to be with him if he was angered so easily? If he held your own job over your head like that?

You hoped that Robb and you could talk it out one day, but his words still hurt you despite everyone telling you none of it was true.

Then there was Jon. He was a talented musician who didn’t let his talent get to his head. He was shy and sweet like his brother, and he proved to be a greater friend to you than you thought. Jon understood your anxiety and he understood how it worked. That afternoon you spent with him getting high and watching Netflix made you curious to know him more. 

Maybe Jon was worth getting closer to and maybe you should give him a chance.

Ramsay was the antithesis of everything Jon and Robb were. He was rude. He was loud. He was fast. The first time you laid eyes on him, he kissed you leaving some kind of hunger inside of you. If you did anything more than kiss him, you fear you would be hungry for more. It wasn’t a question of morals, you knew you were going to hell either way. Still, he was a cruel boy.

Bad boys were delicious, but you wondered if Ramsay even had a heart.

Lastly, there was Viserys. He was a true rockstar. The way he wore his pants. His lifestyle. His music. When you interviewed him, he opened up to you about why he made music. As cocky as he was, you felt something for him. You weren’t a believer of true love, but you did believe in connections. There was something unexplained between you and the Targaryen, but you couldn’t put your finger on what it was.

Or maybe Viserys was just as cruel as Ramsay and he played games with you too.

With Ramsay’s shitty directions and Renly’s actual directions, you managed to get to the party. It was inside an abandoned warehouse. Underground house music blared from the speakers. There was little to no security outside, but you did see other musicians laugh and enjoy each other’s company. To the right of you, you saw Renly and Loras together.

They didn’t hold hands, but everything in Loras wanted to touch him. The more time you spent with them, the less chance Loras would have at landing Renly for his own. 

“Hey!” you called out to both of them. Loras and Renly looked your way. Loras was almost proud of himself with how slutty he dressed you for tonight. Your heels were high as hell. Your little black dress had cuts and tears which peeked at your skin. Your eyeliner wings were so sharp you could kill a man. You smirked at both of them. “I’m going inside to get fucked, ok? You two have fun!”

“Wait—

Loras grabbed Renly before he could say anything else.

“Don’t worry about her,” Loras shook his head. “I left her alone at a party once and I discovered her hours later throwing up on the neighbor’s lawn, only for her to go back inside and chug a beer. She’ll be fine.”

The house beat grew louder until the drop. The whole place erupted in dancing and joy. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Ramsay Bolton chugging a beer away. You felt like a powerful witch with every step you took. You weren’t exactly sure what was going to happen tonight, but something entirely sexual was going to happen. 

You stepped into his space only for Ramsay to spit out his beer entirely. Its contents ran down his chin. His eyes widened and you watched a hunger take over him that you’ve seen before.

“You’re here. In that,” Ramsay said.

“Is there a problem? Am I not disappointing my parents enough?” you said tongue-in-cheek.

“I’m sure your father will murder me for the incredibly indecent thoughts running through my mind right now.” Viserys’ hand landed around your waist, pulling you close to him. You quickly looked at Ramsay for a reaction. A certain fire law low behind them. The jealous game began.

“It’s rude to grab a girl without her say so, Viz.”

“That’s funny. You bragged to me about kissing her without her say so when you met her.” You grabbed the drink off of Viserys’ hands. You took down the whole thing by yourself and looked at both of them. 

“So, are you going to argue or are we going to dance?”

You took their hands and guided them to the dancefloor. They followed you with their feet and their eyes. You thought you felt like a witch two minutes ago, but now you felt powerful. Sure, you had your flirtations and relationships with boys, but you never had two of them like this before. You smiled to yourself and started to lose yourself in the music.

Viserys came up behind you. His hands ran up and down your sides until they settled on your hips. His thumbs massaged your sides as he pulled you closer to him. 

Ramsay took your hands and settled in front of you. He let you run your hands down his torso, letting you feel every muscle he had on that damn body. He saw the hunger in your eyes and decided to take it a step further. He guided your hands up his shirt and eventually both of you pulled it off. You saw his wondrous body which took away attention from Viserys.

Viz responded with taking his own shirt off and burying his head into your neck. You felt his teeth wake up your skin. It started out with small but quick kisses. Then, he started biting down and sucking on your skin so much so that your eyes rolled in the back of your head. 

Ramsay pulled you away from him and let his hands roam you and the tears in your pretty dress. Viz pulled back with the same energy. Before anything else happened, you shouted to both of them.

“One of you grab me a drink! First one to get me drunk gets my mouth for the evening!” They shot off towards the bar like bullets in the air. You laughed to yourself and lost yourself to the new song blasting through the speakers.  
You started to sing to the music. 

“Pretty young things just wanna have fun, but you messed it all up when you went and fell in love!” The pop music synced up with another pop beat and you let yourself go wild. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw them. Loras and Renly hooking up in the middle of the party. Their hands were all over each other while their lips were locked. 

You couldn’t take a sneaky picture, but you could text your best friend. 

You: [Margie, guess what’s happening in front of me????]

Within seconds, you got a response.

Margie: [Are Ramsay and Vi jerking each other off? Lol ]

You: [Loras is IN, babe. I’m literally watching him make out with Renly RIGHT N O W]

Margie: [No fucking way.]

You: [YES FUCKING WAY]

Margie: [PICS???????]

You rolled your eyes and did the best snapchat recording you could for her. It was blurry, but you could make out Loras’ hair and Renly’s rings on his fingers. As you sent it, you felt hands around your waist again. 

“C’mon you,” Viz smiled. Ramsay put two drinks in your hand. 

“Let’s go Y/N. Drink up!” Ramsay shouted. Both of them watched as you down both drinks. You shook your head for the burn and shouted out. Soon, you felt your friend Jack Daniels take over your body. Your lips were loose. Your hips swung to and fro. The last thing you remember from the night was betting Ramsay that he couldn’t steal from the bar.

Which he did.

Two bottle of Grey Goose and the next late morning sun jarred you awake with the heat and the brightness. You groaned and felt last night’s mistake creep up your throat and ring your head like a bell. You blinked a couple of times and reached to the left of you. 

There, in the same bed as you, laid Viserys with his clothes off and his silver blonde hair in a tussle. You reached over to the right of you for your phone. There, in the same bed with his clothes off, laid Ramsay who moved his hand towards you to pull you closer. You looked down at yourself and noticed that you didn’t have any clothes on either.

Note to Self:….who did you FUCK last night?????


	9. Disgust Me Is a Song by New Year’s Day and I Really Like Ash

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is shorter than most, but it packs a punch! Enjoy!

This was something that has never happened to you before. You wanted to lay there and stare at the ceiling and contemplate your life choices. However, both boys were deep asleep and if there was an opportunity to leave it would be now. You crawled forward and felt the sheets shift. You quickly looked over and watched Viserys moan and wriggle in bed. Both of them were still asleep when you finally tumbled out.

Now, the challenge was to throw on some clothes without waking them. You found your underwear quicker than you thought you would. Viserys’ shirt could cover your top half where the dress did not cover. Ramsay shifted in bed as you slowly put your heels back on. 

You started to look around and you realized that you were not in a tour bus on the festival grounds, but an apartment. You wanted to look around and decipher whose it was, but Viserys started to shift around more. Your eye caught a guitar, classic rock posters, and a doh leash by the door.

After a short Uber ride to the Sunspot, you walked in to see a wide smiled Loras greeting you.

“Don’t,” you said.

“Look who’s here!” Loras called out. You immediately saw a Margie snap her neck around and give you the same smile. You swore in another parallel universe that the Tyrells were your blood siblings. 

“I heard what you did last night,” Margaery smirked.

“Ugh,” you reacted, sitting down next to her. Loras served you another hair of the dog to balance the headache you felt.

“So, are you gonna say it or are you gonna make me say it?” Margie asked you, poking you in your side. You felt your eyes go into the back of your head.

“I woke up between them,” you said. A silence fell between the three of you.

“YOU WHAT?” Margie shouted.

“Iconic,” Loras smiled. 

“No fucking way,” Margie said.

“Yes fucking way. Right between them. Rockstar sandwich.”

Loras started to laugh. “I bet you don’t even remember how you got there, do you?” You shook your head no. You didn’t feel any shame when Loras pointed that out. You distinctly remember a hungover Loras waking up in full drag makeup and wearing a hot dog costume. Halloween was lit that year.

“I remember the music? And the dancing?”

“Do you remember you going to the DJ to ask for more drinks?” Loras laughed. Margaery snorted. 

“I did what?” you started to laugh yourself.

“You went up to the DJ booth and ordered three shots of tequila for yourself,” Loras couldn’t contain his laughter. Margie hid her face from you and covered her mouth.

“What else did I do before I left the party?” you asked. Loras served you some sympathy parmesan fries before he continued. Margie and you started to share them.

“Well, Ramsay got so drunk that his tongue was mostly in your mouth, but Viz got jealous. He took you away from the party for like thirty minutes before you both came back. There was a huge bass drop and I remember you being lifted into the air at some point.”

“Which did I seem to lean towards more?” you asked. 

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I woke up between them. Naked. All of us were naked.”

“Don’t you remember the sex?” Margie asked. You started to shake your head until a few flashes of memory came back to you. Heavy breathing in Viz’s ear, sucking Ramsay’s cock while Viz fucked you from behind, and falling asleep in one of their arms.

“I’m getting flashbacks,” you said, staring off. The fries started to help your stomach.

“War of Roses level of flashbacks?” Margie joked.

“No,” you looked to her. “Delicious ones.” You both giggled. 

“You seemed more attracted to Viserys than Ramsay. Then again, who wouldn’t be? Tall, slender, and he looks like a damn god of the underworld,” Loras shivered. He shook his head. “I have Renly. Shush.”

“Wait! You have Renly?” you excitedly bounced. Margie poked Loras in the chest and giggled.

“He told me this morning! Tell her!” Margie bit her lip in a happy smile. A rush of color found Loras’ face.

“We were drunk, but Renly didn’t want to go too far. We kissed, but we both just started talking to one another. And it was nice. I got to know him so deeply and we were just watching the sunrise in a parking lot, but it felt like magic, you know?” Loras rambled on in front of you more and more. You were happy for your friend. Although Loras was as flirty and confident as his sister, he seemed to fall into pieces in front of Renly.

You and Margie felt like you accomplished something. Not a hot mess, but something real. Something that meant something.

Later, you wandered through the arts and crafts section of the music festival to feature an artist who drew portraits of the more popular stars of the fest. You spied a portrait of Viserys’ eyes staring back at you. You felt your heart flutter, but you wanted to punish yourself for it.

The last time you let yourself have feelings, it all came crashing down on you. You still worked for The Scene and, because of Jon, you still got to work in the music festival. You shouldn’t have fallen for Robb like that. Was it your fault? Was it his? No, it was both. You were sure. You felt your phone vibrate in your jeans after writing your last notes with the artist.

Viserys: [I believe you have my shirt. Can we talk? A lot of things happened last night.]

He was serious. No joking tone. No sarcasm. You felt your stomach getting tight, but you swallowed the feeling. Lots of people texted in different tones. Maybe he was smiling. Maybe he had trouble remembering last night too.

You made your way towards the rows of tour buses in the field. Viserys sat outside his bus, smoking a cigarette. Something inside told you something was wrong. You tapped on his shoulder and he turned to you with a smile. Maybe you were overthinking it.

“I have your shirt, good sir,” you dramatically bowed as you gave it to him.

“Does this mean I’m King of the Fest?” he laughed, taking the shirt off of your hands. “You can sit if you want, lovely commoner.” His voice went deeper to play on his new role. 

“Thank you, my lord,” you laughed, sitting in front of him. Viserys cleared his thorat as he put out his cigarette.

“Y/N, last was—

“Wild?”

“Yeah. Wild,” Viserys became more serious. “If I had to be honest, I had a lot of fun. I was celebrating with all of my friends. And you.” His voice trailed off.

“Why do I feel like there’s a ‘but’ somewhere in there,” you told him.

“There’s something I noticed last night about you.” Viserys sat back.   
“Oh?” you said flirtatiously.

“You’re single, right?” he asked.

“Well, yeah I mean, why do you think we—

“Right. I know,” Viserys leaned forward. “I don’t do this.”

“Do what?”

“I don’t compete for girls. I don’t put up with this stuff,” he said flatly.

“What?” you reacted.

“Look, this has been fun, but I’m not doing this. If you’re going to make me compete for your attention, I don’t want it. I’m better than that.” Viserys stood up from his seat. He opened the door to the bus. “You can go now. We’re done.” 

You carried yourself in embarrassing defeat as you left the bus-town of musicians. You felt like crying, but you swallowed it. If Viserys could drop you like that, so could you. You felt your phone vibrate and turned it over.

Ramsay: [That ass was wonderful last night. Round 2?]

You chuckled with yourself. It didn’t matter if Viserys wanted to keep you around. Ramsay was already ready for another tumble. You smiled to yourself while walking inside the festival. You started to text him back when you felt a tap on your shoulder.

“Hey you,” Robb sighed when you saw him. He offered you a large elephant ear on a plate. “Can we talk?”


	10. Can You Tell From The Look In Her Eyes? We’re Going Nowhere

The first time you ever heard My Chemical Romance’s The Black Parade live, you had a nervous chill crawl down your back. It brought you a secret kind of joy that you couldn’t articulate to anyone. Robb Stark offering you a sweet, fried food and asking to talk also gave you a nervous chill down your back, but it brought you no joy.

“Alright,” you nodded. “I guess.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Let’s…talk,” you said. Robb smiled gratefully and sighed with relief. You both walked in silence until you reached a secluded part of the festival: the historic section. Outdoor panels were set up with plaques and pictures from the past. The Battle of the band festival dated all the way back to the 1930’s when people had so little, but came to the park in flocks to listen to music and maybe feel a little bit happier. Both of you had polished off the elephant ear. You licked off the remaining cinnamon sugar off of your fingers.

“I’ve done a lot of thinking these past few days,” Robb broke the silence. “And I’ve made up my mind on a lot of things. And I want to say I’m sorry. Jon told me what happened. I didn’t realize all of this would affect you so greatly. I thought you didn’t care, and I’m sorry.”

“Thank you.”

“Do you have panic attacks often?”

“Yeah. I-uh, well yeah I do,” you admitted. You touched the back of your neck. “I know I’m confident and extroverted, but I have my moments. I get scared. I get really, really wound up and it feels like everything’s falling apart. Jon told you about that day?”

“Yes and no. He yelled at me about it. He was pissed. Jon wanted me to go apologize to you immediately and tore me up about it. I’ve always been quick to anger. Sansa and Jon have always humbled me when I get out of hand. Both of them have bad anxiety.”

You thought of the pretty, rich Sansa with thousands of Instagram followers and a cute youtube channel. You thought of her lovely figure and her flawless skin. Her smile could light up an entire city. She didn’t need to rely on family money when she made so much of her own. She was an IT girl and she had anxiety.

“Sometimes, I wish I could turn back time and change things,” Robb said.

“Like with Robyn?” 

“No. I don’t regret what happened with Robyn. She was a mess. I was a mess. We both made mistakes and it happened. If I regretted it, I wouldn’t be who I am today.”

“And you regret what happened with me?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“I didn’t want Robyn in my life anymore. I wanted her gone. I regret what happened with you because I want you around. I have feelings for you, Y/N. Real romantic feelings.”

If you were till eating the elephant ear, you would’ve choked. Luckily, you weren’t eating anything. Still, you choked on the air round you, making an awkward seas creature noise. Robb touched your arm and looked over you concerned. 

“Are you ok? Do you need water? What’s wrong?” 

“I’m fine!” you said. That was a lie. You were not fine. You just lied to your boss. Good job.

“I’m sorry, maybe I shouldn’t have—

“No, no. It’s okay. I just wasn’t expecting that.”

Robb looked away from you a bit. He turned back to meet your eyes with his own. “So, how do you feel about me?”

The thought was occurred to you since you met him. There an immediate attraction to him. He was your equal in every way. He loved creativity and his small magazine thrived in the city. He was quick-tempered, but he apologized for his actions. He was kind, protective, and the way he smiled at you made you swoon.

Could you date Robb? Did you want to? After what he said and how he held your job over your head, it was hard to decide. Robb still waited while you stare off into space.

“I’m attracted to you. I think you know that,” you smiled, feeling a rush of color coming to your cheeks. “I like being around you. You make me happy.”

“So if I asked you out on a date?” Robb was tip-toeing and you knew it.

“I would have to say no.” You touched Robb’s chest. “What you said and did really hurt. I’ve lost—

“You lost your trust in me,” Robb completed the sentence. He let out a few mumbled cuss words and dug his hands in his pockets. 

“I’m sorry.”

“No, you’re right. You have every right. I fucked up, but I’d like to make it up to you. I’m not sorry for how I feel. I like you. Oh, I like you so much. If I can change your mind, would you consider me then?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I would,” you nodded. Robb smiled wide and took your hand. He kissed the back of it softly. Your heart leaped high above you free to touch the sky and kiss the birds.

“I won’t let you down. I promise.”

Robb’s words left you warm and fuzzy inside. You remembered Jon and his kind words and actions. Feeling generous, you called him, wanting to thank him for everything’s he’s done. You heard a slight fumble and then a sleepy voice.

“Hello?”

“Jon, did I wake you? I’m so sorry,” you giggled to yourself.

“What? Oh, I was only napping. Don’t worry. What’s up?” Jon’s slow drawl made it hard to focus. You secretly wished you could wake up to his sleepy voice.

“Uh, Robb came to me. We talked about things.”

“Did he say he was sorry? I told him to say he was sorry. I swear his anger gets the better of him.”

“He did! He did. I just wanted to thank you for everything.”

“You didn’t have to say that.”

“But I want to. You’ve been so nice to me since I got here. What did I do to deserve you?”

“You have no idea,” Jon laughed awkwardly. “I’m really happy you and Robb are getting along.”

“Why do I sense there’s a ‘but’?”

“There’s no ‘but’.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah! So, did he ask you out?”

“He did.”

“And what did you say?” 

“I told him no,” you told Jon. You heard some shuffling around and then a more alert voice.

“You turned him down? Why?” 

“Because I don’t trust him. Not like before. I don’t trust him like I trust you.” You realized what you said right after you said it. The realization hit both of you at the same time. What you said was true. Robb may have been kind to you, but Jon was kinder. Robb gave you a job, but Jon gave you what you needed: understanding and a hug. You had almost forgotten you were on the phone with him. “Sorry, I was just thinking.”

“It’s alright,” Jon reassured you. “I was thinking too. Could I see you?”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “Yeah, you can.”

The next day you found yourself looking in a mirror. You put so much effort into your outfit that you started to doubt yourself. Maybe your shorts were too short or your t-shirt wasn’t clever enough. Margie hugged you from behind. 

“And why does the cutest girl look so sad in front of a mirror?”

“Because I’m just confused,” you admitted, relaxing under her touch. “I told Robb that I would give him another chance. He wants to be with me, but I trust Jon more.”

“What about Viz and Ramsay? You fucked them. You trust them too, right?”

“No,” You shook your head. “Viz and I aren’t talking anymore. He doesn’t want to chase me. He wants to be chased. As for Ramsay, well…” Your voice trailed off.

“Viz dumped you?” Margie said. 

“You can’t dump someone you were never dating, Margie.” You let your shoulders slump. Margie turn you to her.

“Do you remember how we met?” she smiled. 

“Online? Or real life?”

“Online, silly billy,” Margie opened your bedroom window. Sun streamed through with a gentle wind blowing air through. “Ben was cheating. He couldn’t make up his mind about who he liked more. You’re confused. Just like Ben was.”

“You’re comparing me and Ben? Ben was a piece of shit.”

“Ben wanted all the girls to himself. You don’t.”

“What? You don’t think I want girls to myself?” you played with Margie’s hair. She rolled her eyes.

“I mean, you’re caught up in four—three guys. You want love, not some guy for fucking. You’ve always wanted love. The great adventure of it all. The glory and the swooning of it all. There’s nothing wrong with that. There’s nothing wrong with you.” Margie hugged you tightly.

“Thank you.” Margaery was your best friend. When you had doubt, she was there supporting your angelic wings and your devilish horns. Both of you felt constant vibrations in your pockets.

“Loras?” Margie looked at her phone. 

Loras: [I need you both to come down here. At sunspot.]  
Loras: [Ramsay’s going nuts.]  
Loras: [Jesusss he’s drunk. Get over here now.]  
You stood outside the Sunspot, next to Margaery, watching an angry young man rage inside. Ramsay threw down and entire table, food and all. He screamed at Loras when you stepped inside.

“Fuck you!” He said. “Fuck your fucking boyfriend! Fuck!” You exchanged a look with Margie. Margie looked to her brother. Loras stood there frozen with his hands up, shrugging at both of you.

“Ramsay,” you held your hands up and approached the raging bull. Ramsay turned to look at you. His eyes raged, but then softened when he saw you. “What’s wrong?”

“I’ve been disqualified,” Ramsay told you. “Some bands thought my band was too inappropriate to compete.” Ramsay looked hard at Loras as if he meant to burn him with just a look. You turned Ramsay’s face back to you.

“Calm down, we’ll get to the bottom of this, ok? Loras didn’t do anything. Let’s go home.”

“Go home? Go home? Are you fucking—I know it was him! Him and Renly!” Ramsay lunged Loras’ way. You had to think of something quick.

“I’ll go home with you. We can go for round two if you want,” you winked at him. Ramsay’s dark chuckle echoed through the restaurant. You reached for his hand and he happily took it. You guided a drunk and horny boy out of the restaurant and left Margaery to deal with the mess. One uber ride later and you found yourself in the same apartment you left only days earlier. 

You eyed the same dog leash, classic rock posters, and guitar nestle in the corner. Ramsay’s apartment seemed to be a clean bachelor pad with horror and historic memorabilia displayed everywhere. A small beagle puppy yelped at your feet when you stepped into the kitchen. 

“Audrey!’ Ramsay snapped. The sall pup stopped barking and smiled at you with her tongue out.

“I didn’t know you had a puppy! She’s so precious!” You bent down and gave the good girl lots of love. You obsessed over her big brown eyes and big ears.

“I just got her. Haven’t gotten around to telling everyone yet. So, round two?” Ramsay’s hands played with your hips. He pulled you to him and closed the space between you.

“What happened back there?”

“Are you going to make me talk about my feelings? I don’t do that.”

“Ramsay, your band got cut.”

“No, we were disqualified. Band cuts are tomorrow. We had the fucking votes.”

“So what happened?”  
Ramsay backed off of you. His fists clenched at his sides. Ramsay pulled out another bottle of liquor and poured himself a little. He tossed it back and sniffed sharply. 

“You weren’t at our last show. It was wild. The mosh pit was insane. People screamed my name like they were worshipping a god. I had this idea that on one of our songs, we would sacrifice a goat on stage.”

“What?” you reacted, stepping back.

“It wasn’t a real fucking goat. It was only a prop, but someone thought it was real.”

“But why did you think it was Loras?”

“Not Loras, Renly. I know his band doesn’t have the votes to go through the next two weeks, but my band did. If my band didn’t make it, his band would.”

“That’s…wrong.”

“People play dirty here. This happened last year too. Bands would sabotage each other and steal fans. When I do something creative on stage, it’s seen as obscene. But, other great bands have done the same as me. Doesn’t make much sense, does it?”

“Is there anything we can do?” your eyebrows knitted together. “Could we report this?”

“No, it’s done. Straight from the judge’s mouth. We’re out, and I’ll have to report to my father tomorrow.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, my father and I cut a deal. If my band didn’t win and get this record deal, then I have to clean up my act,” Ramsay tossed another drink back. You felt a vibration in your shorts. You wanted to ignore it, but the last time you ignored your phone it got you in trouble. You peeked to see a text from Jon.

Jon: [Were you still down to hang today? I wanted to see you.]

“You can’t help me. Not even if you tried,” Ramsay said. A part of you felt bad for him. It rooted inside like a growing plant. Ramsay was rough, wild, and awful. He liked himself that way. You did too. He wasn’t gentle or romantic like Jon or Robb, and he had a hold on you. You didn’t want to let go of him easily.

You weren’t sure why you did it. You remembered watching the Phantom of the Opera for the first time. In the finale, the music swelled as Christine kissed the Phantom for the first time. You heard the chorus in your head. In that moment, you always thought that Christine saved the Phantom. You placed your hands on Ramsay’s face and kissed him softly just as Christine kissed the Phantom. Maybe you cared for him more than you thought. Maybe you wanted to save him.  
The moment was quiet and gentle. Ramsay didn’t bite you. He didn’t grab your ass. He just stood there and kissed you back. When you broke the kiss, Ramsay tugged on you and kept you close. Your forehead touched his.

“Why are you so nice to me?” Ramsay asked. “You know I don’t deserve it.”

“I don’t know,” you said. Ramsay’s eyes narrowed on you. You caught a whiff of the alcohol from his breath. 

“What are you doing here?”

“I want to help you.”

“And kissing me softly is going to get me a record deal?”

You took a few steps back and looked down from him. Ramsay pulled you into him again for the third time. His hand interlocked with yours.

“Just say it.”

“Say what?” you asked. Ramsay kissed your cheek. His nose brushed by yours and he started laughing. You felt another vibration in your shorts. It had to be Jon.

“I like you too, stupid,” Ramsay said. 

You peeked at your phone to see Jon’s text.

Jon: [Where did you want to meet up?]

“Oh, you’re meeting up with him,” Ramsay caught a peek at your phone.

“What? No. I mean—

“You’re not my girlfriend, Y/N,” Ramsay winked. “You can kiss whoever you please. I do like competition. I mean, I already knocked out Viserys. What’s another guy? It won’t matter in the end. You’re going to mine either way.”

You left Ramsay’s apartment dialing Jon on his cell. You weren’t sure what just happened. In two days, you were dumped. Forgiven. Asked out by two boys. And one already thought of you as his girlfriend. 

Note to Self: Looking at memes isn’t going to solve your boy issues.


	11. Check Yes, Juliet. Are You With Me?

Jon Snow’s hugs felt so incredible that you contemplated if you needed therapy. Why pay someone to listen to your problems when you could have the sweetest Stark hold you close and all of your problems would melt away like chocolate. You smelled his chest and inhaled a woodsy scent. His flannel shirt hid his white wife-beater underneath. 

“Hey you,” he greeted. “I’m really glad I got to see you today.”

“Yeah! Same,” you smiled up to him. The cozy coffee shop was a bit far from the festival, but it provided a quiet, intimate space. Both of you sat at a table off in a corner where the lights were dim and the board games were stacked.

“Would you like to play a game?” Jon offered. His eye on battleship. 

“I’m not one for board games.”

“Really? Everyone likes to play board games.”

“No, everyone thinks they like to play board games. They kind of ruin parties.” You said. Jon sat back, giving you his full attention.

“Go on,” he nodded.

“Well, think about it. Parties are for socializing, right? You take out a board game and think this will bring people closer together. No, it’s a crutch. Just like a phone or a friend. A board game forces people to talk only about the game and nothing else.”

“Huh. I’ve never seen it that way. You must have lost a lot of board games, huh? Did your brothers cheat?”

“Oh, I’m an only child,” you said. 

“Really? But, you seem to know how siblings are.”

“When you spend a lot of time with Loras and Margie, you know things.”

“Oh. That makes sense. I thought you guys were distant cousins or something. You all seem so close.”

“What about you and Robb?”

“Robb’s my best friend and my big brother. Half-brother I should say,” Jon smiled. His smile quickly faded when he met your eyes again. “Does he know you’re here with me?”

“No, why?”  
Jon touched the back of his neck. “Robb really, really wants you. He can’t stop talking about you, and—

“You like me too?” you filled in the gap. Jon nodded.

“Since I met you, I guess. Your aura is so addicting.”

“Oh please don’t say that. You sound like a sparkly vampire.” You laughed and Jon joined you. His hearty laughter sent his head back as he held his chest.

“No! No, that’s not what I meant. It’s just hard to stop thinking about you,” Jon confessed. His hand ran over the top of your hand and slipped under yours. You felt something stronger than what you felt for Viserys or Ramsay. 

“I—I don’t know what to say,” you smiled sheepishly. 

“You don’t have to say anything. You can just sit there if you wanted.”

“You don’t mean that,” you felt color rush to your face. Maybe you were spending too much time with Viserys and Ramsay. Mean boys were mean to everyone, but a sweet boy like Jon…

“I do. I know how creepy it sounds, but I could look at you all day,” Jon gave a chuckle. You leaned over and kissed his cheek. Jon touched where your lips had been. A quiet shock took over him.

“You’re so sweet,” you smiled. After enjoying coffee, the late afternoon sun swelled into a sunset. Jon walked you back to your apartment hand-in-hand. He kissed the top of your hand before letting you go. You searched for your keys in your purse and felt two hands pull your face up.

Jon’s lips brushed yours. He kissed you so gently as if he was afraid to break you. You kissed him back sincerely and wrapped your arms around his neck. You wanted to laugh. How is it that you’ve kissed other guys but you never felt so happy before? You broke the kiss feeling your emotions everywhere. Jon stole one last kiss before turning around and leaving your building.

You laid in your bed and felt the warmth of the sun over you. You didn’t need its warmth. You felt Jon’s gentle love in your cheeks. How many times had he made you blush today? How obvious had t been to him? You felt Ramsay’s kiss in your groins. You wanted him again, but not casually. You wanted him to belong to you. Just like the kiss you shared.

You heard a tone go off on your phone.

Notification; Write Article for The Scene

Oh yeah. Work was a thing. You sat up and stared at the blank page in front of you. The festival had its ups and its downs. Ramsay’s band was kicked out. Local artists and vendors were doing well. After you wrote the article about Jon, people filled the pub to hear him sing. You felt like you had power in your words, so you must choose them carefully.

Then you remembered Viserys. You remembered how arrogant he could be.

You wouldn’t call it revenge. You didn’t feel angry, but you were writing lie you were running out of time. You went over you interview notes. You looked over other interviews and you read the gossip articles to compare his paparazzo self from his real self. And there, you had your article on Viserys and how he wasn’t everything he claimed to be.

This was karma.

The next morning at The Scene’s office, you waited for Robb to finish reading your article before submitting it to the website. You watched his bored eyes turn to excitement and then glee. He strolled over to you with an idea.

“Do you want a cup of coffee?” he asked with a smile. The same blue eyes made your stomach flip.

“Hmmm, would this have anything to do with me writing about Viz like that?”

“Maybe. Maybe someone could get front page for this month’s issue.”

“You think? It’s that good?” you sat up excitedly. Robb nodded.

“I knew you would write something like this. Viserys Targaryen is a native to King’s City. Everyone knows who he is. We put this out there and he’s exposed like the asshole he is. Oh, I have waited for this day!”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“What happened between you and Viserys? Did he do something to you? Ever since the first interview you were so—

“Jealous?” Robb said. “I was. I didn’t like the way he looked at you. But something did happen yes.”

You scooted your seat closer to Robb. He sat on the edge of your desk. Robb took a long sip of his coffee and held it between his hands.

“Viserys and I went to high school together. Westeros High. Margie went to it too.”

“Oh I know. She’s told me stories.”

“Right. Viserys loved to get attention. He was already popular, but any attention would get him off. It got annoying. I wanted to shut him down. Just once. So, I faked an article where I told everyone he doesn’t write his own songs. It didn’t get published because Viserys and his then girl of the week and the editor of the paper, Alys stopped me.

“I’m really sorry.”

“No, don’t be. He was much worse to Jon than me. Viserys booed him off stage once.”

“What? Why?”

“Because Jon was better at music and Viz knew it,” Robb stared off in the window. You could only imagine the anger one brother felt for another. The coffee cup was compressed in Robb’s hands. “I’m sorry. I’m being unprofessional.”

“No, I like you this way.”

“You do?” Robb cocked an eyebrow.

“I do. You’re more real this way.”

“Thank you?” Robb laughed. “But how do you feel? Do you want to publish this? If you do, there’s no going back.”

“I do. I’m certain.”

You watched Robb submit the article through the website and gave its approval to be the main story for this month’s copy. After writing for The Scene for a while, you finally felt a sense of accomplishment. Sure, you had your degree in journalism, but this was proof. This was your words in action. You were a real reporter now.

You looked at the title of the piece. ‘Viz Targaryen: A Real Dragon or a Low Snake?’

Note to Self: Don’t ever piss off a writer.


End file.
